


Break a Butterfly

by Jellyfish_Tacos



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Braids, Butterfly, Fairy, Harp - Freeform, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Instrument, Long-Haired Victor Nikiforov, M/M, Racial Tension, Recovery, Segregation, Slavery, Victorian, Wings, brothel, dandy, protective, sap, whore
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-15
Updated: 2018-07-21
Packaged: 2018-10-05 18:55:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 14
Words: 43,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10314797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jellyfish_Tacos/pseuds/Jellyfish_Tacos
Summary: Yuuri Katsuki is enamored with a mysterious fairy that he saw playing harp at a party. He tries to find him, but nobody seems to know where he is. One day, he walks home a different way than usual and passes a brothel. He sees a familiar face among the whores, and his life begins to change.





	1. Amor a Primō Conspectu

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Viktor is playing harp at a gala when he sees a handsome stranger.

Viktor experimentally ran his hand down the strings of his harp to make sure that they were in tune. Carefully, he turned the pins to make some minor adjustments to ensure that they sounded perfect. Through the metal bars of his gilded cage, he saw guests begin to trickle in and plastered a weary smile on his face. If only he was a better actor, then it would be easier to keep up this pretense. His master’s rough voice nagged in the back of his head. ‘Show off. They're paying me for you to entertain them, make it worth their money.’ 

With a false smile, Viktor lifted his wings from where they had been resting and spread them open so that their aquamarine iridescence was on full display. He very deliberately arranged his intricately woven silver hair in front and behind him, silky soft against his exposed shoulders. He gently began to pluck out a sweet melody with his slender fingers. His actions had the intended effect. The party guests, with their tittering voices and extravagant ensembles, began to drift over to him; they chattered excitedly with each other. 

“I've never seen one like that before,” one woman chimed to her male companion. “What exquisite coloration,” she marveled. The pair came to a halt in front of his golden prison, but Viktor didn't look up and kept his focus on his hands. “I love those wings. Do you think its master would sell them to me?” His smile and rhythm faltered a bit, but he quickly regained his composure and continued playing. A shiver of terror ghosted down his spine, settling in his elbows and lumbar vertebrae. His heart was racing fearfully, but on the outside he was exhibiting serene gaiety. 

“Oh, my dear, you already have four pairs and you never do anything with them,” the woman’s escort chided her good-naturedly.  
“I do suppose you're right,” she sighed wistfully. Relief washed through Viktor’s system. He could feel the lady’s eyes linger on him as she and her partner strolled away to mingle, her thick skirts and tightly-laced waist swaying as she walked. Ice coursed through his veins when he saw the small wings protruding from the back of her ornate hairstyle. Those were a baby fairy’s wings. 

A lump formed in Viktor’s throat and he gulped delicately, the corners of his mouth still stiffly upturned. With a flourish, he strummed the last note of the song. The next one, he decided, would be dedicated to the tiny fairy that had had their flight stolen from them. He was going to perform a folk song of his people, one that was played in the bleak winter months. The lyrics spoke of hope and family and bright days ahead, but he dared not to say them out loud. The humans had outlawed fairies singing in their native tongue to prevent them from casting spells. The fact of the matter was that besides basic soothing magic, fairies had long ago forgotten the art of enchantment. With urbanization, they had lost touch with the earth spirits who gave them their power. 

Viktor plucked the first chord, and then slid to the second. His fingers began to dance over the strings in muscle memory. The familiar light tune rang through the air, and he was taken back to the snowy nights he'd spent around the fire with his community, dreaming of spring rains and crocuses pushing up through the dirt. The nostalgia and weight of the years made his stomach ache. With a flowing glissando, he finished. The cluster of humans watching him oohed and aahed, oblivious to his small act of rebellion. 

Viktor started picking out a classic human number, and several of the more tipsy ones began belting out the words. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a person that stood out from the rest. He seemed to be solitary, from what he could tell, and was just standing there. His shiny black hair was combed in a hard part and swept in a wave over to one side. A tailored navy-blue suit coat was wrapped around his body, and a ruffled cravat was fastened around his neck. Tan jodhpurs accentuated his already large thighs. Those thighs… 

Viktor swallowed and continued to play. The man wandered closer, a strange expression on his face. Was it… awe? Not quite. The fairy couldn't quite place it. Those russet eyes were wide, and his pink lips were parted. He continued forward as if in a trance, before bumping into the bars separating them. He blinked and shook his head to clear it, while the people around him snickered cruelly. His slightly chubby cheeks turned scarlet in embarrassment, and he looked at his feet. When he lifted his gaze again, the two of them made eye contact. 

Viktor gasped softly when his heart threatened to leap out of his chest and what felt like sparks shot through his body. Hands trembling, he clumsily finished the piece. He stared at the human, heartbeat pulsing wildly. He could look into those eyes for an eternity, he thought. Alas, it wasn't meant to be so. He was rudely awakened from his reverie by a man violently rattling the cage.  
“Why'd you stop? Keep going!” he demanded. Reluctantly, Viktor tore his head away and broke the connection, starting to play the first song that came to his mind. Periodically, he glanced about the room, but the handsome stranger had vanished. 

To be continued..


	2. Saudade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri can't get the beautiful fairy out of his head and decides to go and look for him. Viktor faces his master for the mistakes he made at the gala.

No matter what Yuuri did, his mind kept wandering back to fantasies full of yards of silver hair, eyes that looked like gemstones, and a slender body as pale as the moon. The figure haunted him, tortured him. That gentle smile, the way that coral dress had draped over his frame… No, nothing could keep that fairy out of his head. He wondered what he looked like when he laughed, what his voice sounded like… He pictured a clear, sweet laugh and a smooth, deep voice, but the truth was that he had no idea. 

Yuuri certainly hoped that it wasn’t the case, but the fairy could very well be a mean person for all he knew. So desperately he wanted to get to know him better. What were his interests? Did he have a happy life? Oh, it would break his heart if that lovely fairy was being abused. He rolled over onto his front on his large canopy bed, stomach queasy with worry. He was all too well aware about the conditions that many fairyfolk languished under. The way that they were treated like animals- beaten and sold and mutilated at their master’s whim- was horrific. 

Yuuri shivered and hugged his embroidered pillow tightly, playing with the golden tassels. He didn't want anything bad to happen to any fairy, but not to that one in particular. He had no clue why, but every time he thought about him his cheeks grew heated and his heart fluttered like wingbeats. In was such an alien feeling, one that left him as light as a feather and giddy. He needed to see him again, that much he was sure about.

But how? Yuuri would have to track down the fairy’s owner (unless he was free, but considering the collar that had been fastened around his neck it was unlikely that that was the case), but he had no clue about where to even start. He didn't even know who the hostess had been; his friend Phichit had just dragged him along saying,  
“You need to get out more,” and, “You should start embracing the high society life,” and, “We'll have a grand old time, I promise!” After incessant pestering, he had reluctantly complied to go. 

It was not, in fact, a “grand old time.” Yuuri wasn't exactly the prime example of a social butterfly. He had put on the only formal suit he owned that kind of fit him properly, and had accompanied Phichit to the party. He did not know a single person there besides his companion, who had kept floating away to chat with other guests. Alone and anxious, with a nauseous feeling in his belly, he'd been about to escape when he saw him from across the room. 

Yuuri had thought that the fairy was a mirage at first, for how could someone possibly be that ethereal looking? Almost as if in a hypnotic state, he had begun to step closer to the captivating stranger. The fairy was playing a tall harp with fluid motions, his elegant fingers gliding effortlessly over the strings. The bangles on his wrists chimed quietly with every movement. 

That shining platinum hair was absolutely everywhere, flowing down his back and front before pooling in his lap and the chair, then spilling off of it and nearly brushing the floor. Intricate plaits adorned it like a crown far finer than gold. Five-strand braids arched over his head and were arranged in complicated flower-shaped twists in the back that were ornamented with petal-pink pearls. The rest of it was loose, surrounding him like liquid. Huge, shimmering wings that resembled a sea-green swallowtail’s were spread out wide in a dazzling display, catching the light. The fairy’s pink-orange dress hung low on his shoulders, exposing them. A silver cord cinched it tightly around his waist, tied into a hanging bow.

But the thing that had left Yuuri completely speechless was the fairy’s face. His large forehead swept down to angled brows, which were above expressive blue-green eyes. His jawline was sharp and his nose had a gentle slope to it. The lovely creature had such a peaceful countenance, but underneath that calm exterior was a complex storm. His aquamarine-colored eyes had been filled to the brim with insurgency and melancholy, yet there was a smile on his curved cupid’s-bow lips. 

The fairy had made Yuuri’s knees weak, and before he knew it he was stumbling closer and then banging against the metal cage. He had been so humiliated… The high-class strangers around him had been laughing, and he'd wanted to disappear. They hid their mouths behind satin gloves, but their condescending demeanors were clear. 

And then Yuuri looked up and met those eyes… His entire body had jolted excitedly, pulse jumping for joy, and the entire world melted away. He'd stared into them so deeply that he felt that he might be swallowed up as if in an endless sea. It seemed that as soon as they had made eye contact, it was broken again by a man that was most definitely not sober yelling at the fairy and shaking the bars. Without a word, the fairy had turned back to his harp and started up a song. 

Heat still thumping heavily, Yuuri had just stood there to wait for his mind to catch up.  
“Aw look,” one woman had snidely remarked to her group of friends, loud enough for Yuuri to hear. “He fancies a fairy.” The people within earshot had snickered scornfully, and the Japanese man’s cheeks burned. Tears pricking in the corners of his eyes, he had practically ran out of the room and then had a carriage driver take him home. He had been unable to stay there a minute longer. 

Yuuri still hadn't apologized to Phichit for leaving without saying anything to him… He kicked his feet in guilt and buried his face into his pillow. ‘Phichit probably hates you now,’ his anxiety hissed viciously. He shook his head to try and knock the self-degrading thoughts out of it, but the action was in vain. He flipped over onto his back and looked up at the ceiling. Where was the fairy right now? Was he safe? One thing was certain, he had to see him again.

Resolute, Yuuri rolled out of bed and trudged over to his washstand, which had a mirror above the sink. With a sigh, he pushed his tangled hair out of his face and made a mental note to turn his mirror backwards so that he wouldn't have to see his reflection. The shadows under his eyes from sleep deprivation and the chubbiness of his cheeks and belly from bad eating habits only served as physical proof that he was not well. When was the last time that he had eaten? He couldn't seem to recall. Either he was consuming far too much or far too little, it seemed. 

Yuuri was still wearing his nightshirt from two nights ago. He splashed water onto his face, then slumped over to his wardrobe and began taking out acceptable attire. It didn't matter anyway, he was ugly in everything. As he held up a blue striped button-down, he pondered if leaving the house was even worth it. But then a visage of that gorgeous creature popped into his head, and determination swelled up inside of him. He was going to find him, otherwise go crazy thinking about him cooped up in this house. Hastily, he removed his bedclothes, fastened up his shirt and then pulled a tweed vest on over it. Somehow, he managed to locate a clean pair of drawers and put them on. Stockings and trousers came next, and then he slipped his feet into his black boots and laced them up securely. 

Yuuri exited his room and tapped down the stairs. His coat and hat were hanging on a rack near the exit. Swiftly, he grabbed the paperboy cap and firmly yanked the brim down to cover his eyes a bit. He was about to put an arm through a jacket sleeve when he looked out the window and determined that it was probably warm enough that he didn't need it. He placed one hand on the brass doorknob and gritted his teeth. ‘You can do this.’ His pulse was elevated and he felt like he was about to throw up. Pushing aside thoughts about all of the judging people outside and the social encounters he would have to make, he steeled himself and turned the handle. 

Before he could change his mind, Yuuri stepped out into the sun and closed the door behind him. Hands shaking so hard that he almost dropped the key, he locked the entrance to his residence. The search for the lovely fairy had begun. 

~~~~~~~~~~~

Viktor was lying on his cotton cot, looking up at the dusty wooden ceiling. The room was meagerly and sparsely furnished, containing only the bed he was trying to rest on, and a dresser with a pitcher and bowl on it for washing up (although it hadn't held water for quite some time). A flimsy chest was pushed against one wall, intended to contain the possessions of whatever slaves was living in the room. He, however, did not own anything besides the rags that clothed him. The exquisite silk and intricate embroidery was reserved for when he was performing only. He owned nothing of value… ‘Well, besides myself,’ he thought with a wry smile. Fairy body parts, especially defining ones such as ears and hair and wings, were worth a considerable amount. 

Viktor looked up when he heard the door click.  
“Oh! Chris,” he greeted pleasantly. But his friend was not there to deliver good news, judging from his grim expression. “What is it?” Viktor's voice had turned serious. Chris’ brows were furrowed slightly, and his mouth was drawn into a line in concern.  
“The master would like to speak to you.” The silver-haired fairy blinked.  
“Right now?” he questioned. The other fairy dipped his head solemnly as an answer. 

Gradually, Viktor stood and folded his wings behind him. He walked over and placed a hand on his friend’s shoulder, noticing that his green-and-gold wings were drooping.  
“Hey,” he gave a reassuring smile, “I’ll be alright.”  
“I hope so.” There was underlying fear in Chris’ peridot eyes, and a bitterness in his tone. Viktor pulled him into a tight embrace.  
“Don't worry.” He hoped that his apprehension wasn't showing. The other man hugged him back fiercely and then they separated. 

Viktor didn't know why, but he had the sickening feeling that the would never see each other again.  
“Goodbye Christophe.” He gave a sad smile and started to move away, waving. “See you soon.” Both of them knew that this was a lie.  
“Goodbye Vitya.” The diminutive form of Viktor’s name made their farewell even more difficult. There were tears in two pairs of eyes. He turned and began his journey down the dimly-lit and low-ceilinged hallway, not looking back. He came to the end of the corridor and began ascending the creaky stairs, trying to soothe his nerves. He reminded himself that he had to put on a happy face no matter what. 

Emerging from the basement was like stepping into another world. There was high quality navy-blue carpeting under his feet, and lavish paper covered the walls. His master wasn't extremely rich, but he was well off. Apparently he didn't have enough money to be able to feed his slaves adequately, however, although he was eating such luxuries as stuffed pheasants and chocolate cake every day. Viktor felt disgusting standing in such a lovely environment while he was covered in dirt from the top of his head to the soles of his bare feet. His silver hair was knotted and brushed against his calves, and his wings were weak and cramped from underuse. 

Viktor took a right, treading softly. He was on the homestretch to his master’s office. Paintings of people long passed watched him condescendingly from either side. His heart began pounding heavily as he rapped on the oakwood door, although he was determined to stay calm and collected.  
“Enter,” came a gravelly voice. The fairy swallowed delicately and turned the door handle. Inside the room was his master, sitting behind a polished desk with his hands folded on top of it. The sun behind his illuminated his imposing figure.

Viktor heard the door shut behind him, as if his fate had been sealed. The guard who had closed it stopped directly behind him, and goosebumps popped up on his arms.  
“Do you know why I've brought you here today?” his master asked, light blue eyes cold and calculating.  
“I surely do not,” Viktor replied with a false smile. He wasn't permitted to take a seat.  
“Madame Ashwood has informed me that your performance at her event was unsatisfactory.” Dread clenched in the fairy’s stomach. That had been the party that he had seen the handsome man at. He placed a finger on his chin and tilted his head to the side, feigning innocence.  
“I do not recall.” 

Viktor’s master smirked, turning his blood to ice.  
“Perhaps this will refresh your memory. She told me that she saw you staring lustfully at one of her guests. I suppose I shouldn't be surprised, all you slutty fairies are the same.” A small gasp escaped Viktor. “Oh! Is it all coming back to you now? How you were so distracted that you made mistakes in your playing?”  
“I may remember that,” the fairy told him weakly.  
“Do you know the punishment for slaves who don't know their place and can't complete simple tasks without error?” 

“I assure you, it will not happen again,” Viktor asserted cheerfully, narrowing his eyes and yet keeping a smile on his face.  
“No,” his master hissed. “It will not.” He gestured to the guard. “Grab him and hold him down.” The pleasant facade dropped and the fairy spread his wings, preparing to jump out of the window to escape. He started to sprint, but the brute behind him grabbed one of his wings and it wrenched painfully. Viktor gritted his teeth and grunted in surprise. 

“And to think,” his master grinned cruelly, “that I was going to have some mercy on you.” The henchman held the fairy’s fragile body in place with one arm, and with the other pulled out a knife that glittered in the sunlight streaming from the window. The burly man restraining Viktor smelled like tobacco and iron, and he wanted to vomit. The meaty paws were sweaty and burning hot against his skin. “Beg,” his master demanded menacingly. 

But Viktor Nikiforov refused to beg for anyone.

 

To be continued~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one was hard for me to write, but it's done and I hope you like it!
> 
> Please tell me what you think ^^ It encourages me. <3


	3. Meretrix

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri begins his search for Viktor, and passes by a brothel where whores are being auctioned off. Viktor is there, and people are bidding for his virginity. Yuuri can't just stand there and watch.

Yuuri's body ached with fatigue from walking all day. Too shy to ask a carriage driver to chaperone him, he'd decided to carry out his search on foot. He had first called upon Phichit to apologize for abandoning him at the party.  
“It's fine, don't worry about it,” his friend had assured him cheerfully, but he still felt guilty. He then awkwardly segued into inquiring the name of the gala’s hostess. “Oh! Madame Ashwood, why?” 

Flushed and embarrassed, Yuuri had whispered into Phichit’s ear about how he was trying to find the fairy. A wide, slightly mischievous grin had spread out on the other man's face.  
“Good luck to you! I hope that you can find your mysterious stranger.” The Japanese man had thanked him and left, his heart significantly lighter and his hand heavier with instructions to get to the madame’s house. He had then wandered the streets, trying to follow the path that his friend had messily sketched on the paper. It was nearly impossible. 

Eventually, after meandering for hours down twisting lanes that had lavish mansions on either side, he found himself in front of familiar-looking and foreboding black iron gates. The guard standing there had asked him to state his name and purpose. Yuuri gulped, throat dry.  
“I-I'm Yuuri of the Katsuki family. I would like to speak to the lady of the house.” With a suspicious look, the man had reluctantly opened the gates. 

A cobblestone path led up to an imposing edifice, ten times larger than Yuuri’s townhouse. He had made his way up to the limestone steps and then climbed all fifty of them, out of breath by the end. He had taken a moment for his heart rate to drop back to around normal, and then nervously reached out to hit the brass knocker against the tall door. Within seconds, a very professional-looking fairy maid had opened the door and was curtsying to him. He had bowed in return. The dark-haired woman’s neatly folded wings were a dusty brown on the exterior and a soft indigo on the interior. 

“Might I inquire if Madame Ashwood is here presently?” Yuuri had tried to sound as proper as he could. The maid had shaken her head in response, looking apologetic.  
“I'm sorry sir, but I'm afraid she is out of town for several weeks.” The human’s heart sank and he was about to turn back when she continued speaking. “However, I'm sure that her secretary could meet with you if the matter if important.” Panic had flooded his body at the thought of having to talk to yet another stranger. 

“No, no, that won't be necessary. I just want to ask a simple question.”  
“Perhaps I can be of help? What is it?” the fairy had queried, tilting her head to the side. Yuuri had then swallowed heavily, palms sweaty.  
“Uh-” He had chewed his cheek- “A fairy played harp at the gala a week ago. I don't suppose you would know who his employer is?” It could have just been his eyes playing tricks, but he had thought that he had seen darkness flash in her violet eyes for an instant.  
“His name is Augustus Winthrop,” she told him distantly, a polite smile forcibly plastered onto her face. 

“Do you happen to know where he is or how to contact him?” Yuuri had questioned hopefully.  
“I do.” Her eyes had then hardened. “But if you are looking for that fairy, you will not find him there,” she had informed him stiffly, a hint of bitter sadness seeping into her tone. “He has been…” Her face had begun to look pained. “Let go..,” she had drifted off. “Good day sir.” With what sounded like a sob, she had begun to push the door closed.  
“What do you mean? Where is he? Wait!” His nose had almost got caught as the door had slammed shut in his face. Dejected, he'd descended the extravagant stairs. What should he do? He had no leads as to where the fairy had gone. Growing more tired and depressed with every step, he'd somehow managed to escape the labyrinth that was the higher-class neighborhoods and entered the urban sectors. 

And now he was in an unfamiliar part of the city, wishing that he had brought a coat after all to protect from the biting wind. He was trying to get back to his house, which he planned to never leave again for the rest of his life. Considering that he had passed the same grimy pub three times now, he was pretty sure that he was lost. Or possibly, all of the bars in this municipality looked nearly identical. Either way, he was just roaming the streets aimlessly in hopes that he would find a police officer or someone, anyone, that could help him. The sun was beginning to set, and anxiety was tearing at his stomach. What if he couldn't find his way home before dark?

Wait- was it just Yuuri's imagination, or did he recognize this road? He strode down it quickly. There was a large congregation on the street, and he edged around it. He usually didn't do very well in crowds. The cluster of people mainly consisted of upper middle-class and rich men, which was surprising considering that they were in the slums. They were shouting out numbers excitedly, and he realized that they were auctioning. Compelled by an unseen force as well as curiosity, he took a deep breath and plunged into the mass of people. It was like a writhing sea of frock coats and limbs and scented oils, and he immediately regretted his decision. 

“24,000!” one man roared.  
“26,000!” another echoed. What on earth were they bidding for that cost so much? Yuuri’s eyes drifted up and he froze, not breathing. Standing on a raised platform in the center of the multitude was a line of hooded, robed figures with their heads down. One person was in front of the others, except he wasn’t covered like them. He was wearing a provocative sapphire-blue kimono, which contrasted with his brilliant ruby wings that were spread wide and catching the sunlight. His lengthy black hair was twisted up into an ornate bun. His face was painted, and he looked as if he was doing his best to disassociate. 

“Going once, going twice- Sold for 30,000 to the man with the checkered tie!” Horror hit Yuuri like horse hooves, pounding against him. These were whores whose services were being auctioned off to the highest payer. The fairy hopped off of the block, dread evident in his coal-colored eyes. A burly, eager-looking man stepped forward, grabbed his slender wrist, and dragged him off into a dilapidated building nearby. A crooked sign above the door read “House of Ill Fame.” 

Yuuri shivered and was starting to move away when the next fairy stepped forward, and something seemed familiar about the way that that robe shrouded that thin form. With his left hand the whore lowered his hood, and Yuuri gasped. It was the fairy who had been playing harp at the party. The one that he had been searching for. The silver-haired man slipped off his cloak and let it drop to the floor. He was clothed in a pale-pink kimono with embroidered violet roses. A wine-colored obi was wrapped around his waist, and long sleeves blocked his hands from sight. He lifted his sea-green wings so that the crowd could see. 

Same as the last time Yuuri had seen him, there was a fixed smile on the fairy’s face; melancholy and fear was evident in his eyes. The whole time, he watched with mouth agape, heart pounding from something other than social anxiety.  
“Presenting the lovely Viktor! He's new here, and his virginity could be yours starting at 15,000!” the auctioneer announced, winking. “Do a twirl for the audience, hon.” Eyes blank and that empty doll smile still in place, Viktor spun slowly to show off his beautiful hair. It was arranged in complex braids, flowing down around his calves. The spectators oohed and aahed, the men whispering amongst themselves.  
“I wonder if he'll bleed,” one man cruelly joked to his friend. They both laughed harshly.

Tears pricked in Yuuri’s eyes and a lump formed in his throat. They were going to sell off the fairy’s virginity like he was not capable of feelings. How could they do this? It was absolutely appalling.  
“Now, who would like to start off the bidding?” Chaotic shouts and shoving broke out as people clamored to be heard.  
“30,000!”  
“45,000!”  
“50,000!” Nausea rolled throughout Yuuri. “100,000!” Silence swept over everyone, and a huge man stepped forward. Judging from all the scar tissue on his flesh, he'd been in numerous fights. He grinned triumphantly, displaying missing teeth. He was so gigantic and rough, whereas Viktor was so thin and delicate… Images of grotesque injuries flashed through the Japanese man’s head, and panic clawed up his throat. What could he do? He couldn't let this happen to the poor fairy. 

“Going once, going twice-”  
“400,000!” Yuuri yelled without thinking, determined. All eyes shifted to focus on him, and he gulped. Nobody uttered a word, only stared in shock at such a large amount of money being offered. His face and ears were burning from all of the attention and humiliation, and his hand started fidgeting nervously.  
“Going once, going twice-” The auctioneer sounded mildly amused. “Sold to the man with the striped shirt!” 

Shaking, Yuuri commanded his legs to carry him to the stand. Viktor stepped down gingerly and placed his kimono-covered hand in the dark-haired man’s without making eye contact. Now with the garment touching his skin, the human could tell that it wasn't really silk and was only cheap imitation fabric. The pair walked over to the entrance of the brothel. They both let go and then pulled off their shoes. A pair of geta sandals and black boots joined the line of footwear. Some looked like they had been there for years, dirty and faded. 

Viktor took Yuuri’s hand again and then pushed the door open, leading the human into the dark brothel. Outside, the noises of the auction continued. The fairy’s face was hard to read underneath the smile that was clearly false. The warmth of his fingers was sending what felt like sparks through the Japanese man’s system. He was afraid that the lovely creature beside him could feel how fast his pulse was racing, how much his palms were sweating. Through his dream-like state, Yuuri could register that something felt… off about the way those fingers gripped his own, although he was feeling too dizzy to be able to deduce exactly what it was. 

The hallways were cramped and had a low ceiling, dimly lit by sporadically placed candles on the floor. On either side were curtained-off rooms and muffled animalistic grunts were drifting from within some of them. The air was filled with the scent of incense, which was doing little to mask the smell of sweat and must and mold. Yuuri’s nose burned and he sneezed, only barely managing to cover his mouth and nose in time. He thought he might die of shame. 

“Bless you,” Viktor told him kindly. The two of them came to a stop in front of a thick purple curtain. The fairy moved it aside and guided Yuuri into the tiny room behind it. The only furniture inside was a bed with scarlet comforters and a side table with drawers. The human’s heart was racing in trepidation as the other man drew the curtain closed. What should he do now? 

Viktor kneeled down on the bed gracefully, then beckoned Yuuri over. Sick to his stomach, the other man obliged. The fairy laid down and then gently pulled the human on top of him, his wings splayed out and his hair everywhere. Yuuri’s legs were straddling his pelvis, and seeing the fairy right there in front of him felt unreal, like a dream. But in his dreams, he hadn't felt this ill. Against his will, he felt his groin stir slightly. Viktor’s fingers, still wrapped in the sleeves, began fumbling with the buttons on his tan vest. The Japanese man was too nervous and frightened to move. His eyes shifted down to look at the fairy’s face. 

The smile was still present, but misery and fear was evident in those aquamarine eyes. The crudely applied powder on his face was growing thin in some places, and the rouge was too heavy over his cheekbones. His crimson lipstick and smoky eyeshadow were smudged, increasing his appearance of naivety. This felt so wrong. Viktor looked just as bewildered and scared as Yuuri was. The fairy began undoing Yuuri’s vest, and the human tried to work up the courage to say something. His top opened up, and his bare chest was exposed. Slender fingers moved down to his trousers. The digits were trembling. 

Panic surged up inside of a Yuuri like a tidal wave.  
“Stop!” he cried. Viktor’s movements immediately came to a halt. A tear rolled down the dark-haired man’s cheek. “I can't- I can't do this to you.” He had only wanted to save the fairy, not steal something so precious and intimate from him. Viktor had soft confusion in his eyes.  
“Why would you care about a fairy?” he asked with counterfeit lightness and a certain evenness about his tone.  
“You're a person too! You have feelings..” Yuuri hated the tremor in his voice, hated the fat droplets of water dripping onto the fairy’s kimono.  
“But a fairy’s feelings don't matter,” Viktor recited.  
“Well they do to me!” the Japanese man sobbed, and took off his fogged-up glasses to rub his eyes. The silver-haired fairy looked as if he had no idea what to do, surprised.  
“Please lie down, sir.” 

Yuuri obeyed, sniffling pathetically. Viktor tenderly pulled worn blankets over him and gently took the glasses from the human’s hand to set them on the side table.  
“I'm sorry that I failed you,” he whispered quietly, still smiling.  
“You didn't fail me!” Yuuri argued tiredly. The long day of traversing the city was catching up to him, and he could feel his eyelids growing heavier with every passing second. The fairy laid down beside him as he drifted off into a troubled sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading~ This chapter was fun to write! ^^


	4. Eleutheria

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri wakes up beside Viktor and makes a decision that will change everything.

At first, when Yuuri awoke the next morning, he couldn't seem to recall where he was. Slowly, piece by piece, the events of the previous night came back to him and he groaned. Sweet Viktor was still beside him. His eyelids were closed, and his chest rose and fell softly with each breath. Yuuri wondered what he was dreaming about. Protectiveness, a relatively foreign emotion, swelled up inside of him. He couldn't leave Viktor here at the brothel.

Even though Yuuri hadn't taken Viktor’s virginity, it was certain that someone else would if he was left here. Yuuri refused to allow that to happen. Picturing the fairy here day after day, servicing too rough men against his will, Yuuri felt like crying again. This gentle creature didn't deserve that. The human entertained the thought of how much buying Viktor outright would cost. Yuuri prayed that he had enough money. 

He sat up just as the silver-haired form beside him began to stir. The fairy gave a huge yawn and then eased himself into a sitting position, arms raised in a stretch. His sleeves had slipped to around his elbows, and Yuuri caught a glimpse of bandages on Viktor’s right hand before it was discreetly hidden away once more. Viktor had pulled down the fabric to obscure it, and Yuuri decided not to press the issue any further. 

Viktor slid off of the bed and then stood up. All of his silver hair was tangled, and makeup had stained his kimono. His head was bowed submissively. 

“Would you like some breakfast, sir?” Viktor inquired with strained cheerfulness. 

“Oh!” Yuuri blinked, and the ache in his stomach was called to his attention. While he was hungry, he was also afraid that he might vomit if he ate anything. “Um, no thank you...” The fairy dipped his head and turned to leave, and Yuuri called out, “Wait!” 

Patiently, Viktor looked back.  
“Yes?” Was he going to come back? Or was this farewell? Panic constricted the human’s chest. He couldn't leave Viktor here. 

“Is- is this goodbye?” Yuuri asked. Ugh, he sounded so stupid. He wouldn't be surprised if the other man laughed in his face and left. 

Yuuri braced himself, but the condescending mocking he envisioned never arrived. 

“I'll be back soon, alright? Just fetching some clean clothes.” Viktor winked reassuringly, shook out his wings, and then pushed the curtain aside to exit the room. The Japanese man was left there alone, feeling quite dazed. His heart was pounding in a flurry of beats. Shakily, Yuuri scrambled for his glasses, which were still resting on the bedside table. He slipped them on, and the world suddenly became clearer.

How could Yuuri possibly buy Viktor? The fairy probably wouldn't want to live with him anyway… And what would his family say? It was inevitable that they would find out. They'd probably think Yuuri was a pervert or something. On top of that, he didn't know the first thing about taking care of fairies. What if he did something incorrectly and Viktor ended up being unhealthy and sad, or hating him? 

Yuuri moaned, conflicted, and laid back down. Why did he always have to be so indecisive and unsure? What on earth was he going to do? But then he remembered the man that had joked about Viktor bleeding. He remembered the wrappings on the fairy’s hand, presumably from a cruel punishment of some kind. Finally, he recalled how scared Viktor had been the night before. Yuuri shuddered. 

He was resolute now. Even if he became a pariah, that was something that he could put aside for the sake of the fairy’s wellbeing. He refused to leave him here in such a filthy, dangerous place like this. Yuuri had made up his mind, and so now all he had to do was attempt to not overthink things and to wait for Viktor to return. 

~~~~~~~~~~~

Viktor padded quietly back to the room he had stayed in so as not to awake the other inhabitants of the brothel. Two folded kimonos were stacked in his arms. He had been given several of them when he had become a member of the House of Ill Fame. Most of them were torn in suggestive spots, which made sense considering that they were secondhand. He didn't technically own them, only borrowing them, but it still felt nice to have some variety to choose from. Still, Viktor didn't feel like he deserved such a luxury. He was just a disgusting little slave, so desperate that he was willing to sell his virginity for food and board. 

The only skill that Viktor had, playing the harp, was null and void now that he was missing his right index finger. He smiled bitterly. It wasn't enough to kick him out onto the streets; they had to render him useless and incapacitate him. Thinking about it made the stump seem to throb more intensely with pain. At least the other yuujo had crudely bound it up to prevent further bleeding. Infection, though? There was nothing that this poor fairy brothel could afford to remedy that. Viktor only hoped that he wouldn't lose the rest of his hand when it set in. 

Surprisingly, Viktor wasn't that upset about it. In fact, he felt nothing. Disassociating himself from reality seemed to make everything not matter anymore. Hell, he could die tomorrow, and nobody would even care. Wait, he had to take that back — the owner of the brothel would care, because she would lose money. They'd dump his body off at the nage-komi-dera and that would be the end of it. 

Smiling wryly, Viktor moved aside the curtain blocking the room he had used the night before. The Asian man was sitting up, eyes alert and a determined look on his face. His black hair wasn't slicked back anymore, falling over his face and disheveled.

“Viktor!” he blurted out. “I would like to buy you!” The fairy’s mouth opened a bit, eyes wide, and he almost dropped the clothes. He quickly regained his composure and smiled politely. This had to be a joke or something. 

“Why?” That question felt like lead on his tongue. Why would a human that was practically a stranger care? 

“Because,” the human gulped, “I simply cannot leave you here in this awful place.” A shake had slipped into his voice as his self-confidence began to slip. 

Truthfully, Viktor wanted nothing more than to leave this brothel with this beautiful man, who had captivated him entirely from the moment that he'd first laid eyes on him at the gala. (He was now certain that it was the same person, although his demeanour was different.) But he could not allow himself to be that straight-forward, and so he bowed his head submissively instead. 

“If that is what you wish, sir.” Viktor lifted his eyes for a second to peek at the other man. He seemed concerned and confused, presumably because of the fairy’s slavishness. 

“Let us change our clothes, and then I will escort you to the headmistress’ office.” 

Viktor set an indigo kimono onto the bed. It was rather flamboyant, although it was worn thin in some sections. It enveloped a neatly folded nagajuban, which used to be white but was now a faded gray. A striped datejime was also within the kimono, and it looked as if it had been ripped and then stitched back together again. A wide orange obi and yellow obijime were wrapped around all of the garments, keeping them in a bundle. A tama kanzashi pin with a marigold colored ball was tucked into it. 

The dark-haired man looked at the clothing quizzically. 

“It's for you, if you want to wear it,” Viktor explained.

“Oh.” The human bit his lip. “Um… If you don't mind, could I stay in my own clothes?” He looked uncomfortable. It was almost laughable, a high-class person asking a slave for permission to do something. The fairy lowered his eyes. 

“Whatever pleases you.” He then placed his own kimono pieces onto the crimson covers and began stripping, careful to face away from the other man.

The Asian man let out an adorable little squeak. 

“Wha-what are you doing?” Viktor looked over his shoulder, puzzled, when he heard that. 

“Getting dressed, sir.” Oh no, was that too forward? What if he misinterpreted it for flippancy? 

“Oh, sorry..” Was that.. embarrassment? The fairy smiled softly to himself; he had thought that his intentions had been clear. Viktor untied his obijime and then slipped off his sash and the outer layer of the kimono. Next came the datejime and then finally the nagajuban. Higher ranking courtesans had many more layers than this, some over twelve. 

Viktor was left wearing only his drawers, corset, and lacy stockings that had a sewn split for the big toe like tabi socks. He hadn't bothered to locate any clean ones, so they would have to do for the time being. His ribs absolutely ached. He'd been so foolish as to leave on his corset overnight, and his muscles were cramping badly. Viktor wished nothing more than to unlace it and free himself, but he supposed that he had to keep up appearances. Carefully, the fairy pulled on a white kimono featuring exotic embroidered black-crowned cranes, moving his delicate wings through the designated slits. Keeping his right hand wrapped in his sleeve, he shakily and sloppily wrapped the scarlet obi around his waist and knotted the gold obijime cord. 

He then drew his hair out from under his clothing. He hadn't undone the braids yet, and it was dreadfully tangled. Ah, he would fix it later. He ran his hands through a couple times to remove the largest snarls, cautious to not hit any of the tiny plaits. That was a problem for another time. His hair was so fine that many of the knots slipped out with ease. Finally, he tied a long red ribbon around all of it to make a tail. His face felt sticky from the makeup that he hadn't washed off from the previous night, and he was sure he looked awful. 

Viktor turned back to face the dark-haired man, whose red face was buried in his hands. The fairy gave a rare genuine smile; he couldn't help it. The human was just so endearing. 

“I'm done,” he announced. The other man looked up, and his mouth fell open just slightly. His russet eyes widened and his blush deepened. Overall, he seemed… What was the right word? Viktor tapped his chin gently with his left pointer finger. Oh! Entranced. The effect that he had on other people was rather amusing, although he failed to understand it himself.

“Shall we go?” Viktor offered, tilting his head. The Asian man was silent for several seconds, blinking slowly. 

“Huh? What?” he asked when he returned to reality. The fairy repeated himself, still smiling. 

“Oh yes, of course,” the bespectacled man stammered out. He stood, looked down, and hastily buttoned up his vest and shirt. Viktor moved aside the curtain for him, then began guiding him in the direction (he thought) the headmistress’ room was. 

The pair walked down the creaky hallway and took a left. They passed by the fairy that had been auctioned off before Viktor; his fair skin had a myriad of colorful bruises on it. There was a single tear track down his stony face. 

“A-Are you okay?” Viktor’s companion questioned anxiously. All he received in response was an icy glare, and he looked taken aback. 

“Don't worry about it,” Viktor quickly assured. “I don't know Seung Gil very well, but he acts like that to everyone.” He then added softly, “He's been through a lot. I heard that he had to sell himself to help his family.” 

“Oh.” The human’s face was plaintive. 

“Don't be sad,” the fairy told him, struggling to smile. “At least he has food and shelter here.” The Asian man looked as if he were about to start crying or throwing up. 

They rounded a corner and stopped in front of a room with a pink curtain blocking the doorway. Viktor put on his most convincing happy face, and saw that the human was shaking nervously beside him. He stretched out a kimono-wrapped hand and moved the curtain open. A scream filled both of their ears then, and Viktor watched in quiet shock as two naked men scrambled to cover themselves. Calmly, he moved the fabric door back over the entryway. He turned back to the dark-haired man, finger on his chin.  
“I could have sworn that was the right room.” You couldn't really blame him, right? After all, he'd only been there a couple of days. The human looked mildly traumatized. “Oh well, let's keep looking.” The fairy resumed his stride, and the other man followed after a moment of surprise-induced paralysis. 

They continued down the corridors, and Viktor realized that he could not for the life of him remember which room belonged to the headmistress. 

“I wonder where she is,” he thought aloud. “Oh, Michele!” he tugged on the lilac sleeve of a passing fairy that had a sour, melancholy express on his face. 

“What?” he asked tiredly and blankly. His royal-blue wings were drooping like wilted irises. Poor lad. Viktor had been told that he had been very close with his sister, and that they had been separated. The other fairy’s lengthy chestnut hair was just as messy as his was. 

“Well — I can't seem to recall which room is the headmistress’.” Viktor cocked his head. “Do you know?” Michele gave him an incredulous look, even though the bags under his violet eyes indicated exhaustion. 

“It's the really fancy one with the golden curtain and the lights strung over the door…” He seemed confused as to how Viktor had managed to disremember that. 

“Oh, thank you!” The silver-haired fairy gave a cheerful smile, waved, and then began to move away. “There it is!” 

At the end of the hall was doorway obscured by a golden silk curtain decorated with curling leaf designs. Man, Viktor hadn't even gotten the color right. It was made of real silk, not the imitation fabric that his kimonos were roughly crafted out of. Above the doorframe were authentic electric lights, which were rare in this part of the city. They were so tiny, and shone out of miniature paper lanterns. Preparing himself once more, he drew the curtain open. The material was so soft that he could feel it from within his sleeve. He allowed the dark-haired man to enter first, his eyes lowered respectfully. He then closed the curtain once more for privacy. 

The headmistress, a stern old woman with glasses, didn't even look up from her paperwork. 

“Yes, what is it?” she barked irritably. “I'm very busy.” The human cleared his throat, and sounded like he was almost launched into a coughing fit. 

“I-I would like-” his voice cracked, and his cheeks flushed. Trying again, the human spoke more clearly. “I would like to purchase this fairy from you.” That got her attention. She peered up at him through her gilded spectacles, and then her eyes shifted over to scrutinize Viktor. 

“You want that one?” she asked, nose wrinkled. Cold settled in the fairy’s belly.  
“Yes, why?” Viktor could hear defensiveness rising in the other man's voice. 

“I feel like I should have transparency with you.” The headmistress removed her glasses. “He is marred.”

“What do you mean?” Worry had creeped into the Asian man’s tone. 

‘This is it,’ Viktor thought, ‘He won't want me anymore once he finds out.’ His heart thudded heavily in his ribcage in dread. 

“You really don't know?” The headmistress asked disbelievingly. 

“No,” the dark-haired man retorted, fiercely yet civilly. 

“I see.” She examined him with her piercing blue gaze. “Whatever your name is,” she snapped, directing her harsh command at Viktor, “Roll up your sleeves.” The silver-haired man hesitated for a moment, pulse racing wildly. He gradually pushed up his left sleeve, and then his right. The human gasped when he saw the bloody, bandaged stump. 

“Did you do this to him?” he demanded, gesturing in Viktor’s direction. 

“Of course not,” the headmistress laughed. “His previous master did.” The fairy shivered as he remembered the way that a knife saws through bone and flesh. 

“That's appalling.” The other man sounded as if he was on the verge of tears. 

“That may be so, but I don't call the shots, kid. Could've been a lot worse.” She smirked.

“Consider yourself lucky. I will lower the price because he's damaged goods.” Viktor felt like crying himself, but kept a pleasant smile plastered on his face. He silently braced himself for the human’s response, waiting for the inevitable decline now that the other man was aware of his injury.

“No.” Viktor’s heart sank, and his smile disappeared despite his best efforts. Of course this would happen. He never should have gotten his hopes up in the slightest- “I will pay full price for him,” the human announced, eyes firm. Both Viktor and the headmistress’ mouths fell open in startlement. 

“Wha-?” The older woman looked flustered and bewildered. “Why? I was offering you a discount.” 

“Because I believe that he has no less value as a person just because he has been a victim to senseless violence,” the Asian man told her fiercely. “So I will pay you in full.” 

“Have it your way then,” the headmistress snorted, a greedy glint in her eyes. 

“I'll buy him right now. How much?” The human had taken out his wallet and opened it, his trembling fingers the only thing that gave away the nervousy hidden under a facade of bravery. 

The headmistress smirked and named her price; Viktor cringed. Surely the other man would change his mind now? But he was unfazed, and dropped the contents of his clutch onto the desk. The headmistress’ eyes were as round as the titanium coins rolling over her papers. 

“I included the amount for last night as well.” 

“Yes,” she croaked weakly. “Um… You just need to fill out some forms, and then you can be on your way.” She shuffled in a folder for a second, and extracted a document before handing it shakily to the dark-haired man. He picked up a quill and began filling it out. She watched him. “Yuuri Katsuki?” she exclaimed. “You're part of the Katsuki family?” He ignored her. 

Yuuri. So that was his name. It was beautiful. It melted off the tongue like a lemon drop candy. Yuuri released the feather pen and whirled around. The two of them left the room, and Viktor felt like he was walking on air. As soon as the curtain was closed, it seemed that the human’s confidence vanished. He let out a slow breath, his shoulders relaxed, and he looked at the floor as he started walking. Viktor was too stunned at what had just happened to speak, so he just followed behind. 

Yuuri swallowed audibly. 

“Do-do you have anything you want to take with you? I'll buy you nicer clothes if you would like them.” Ah, he was so kind. Viktor didn't believe that he really deserved it. He thought about his kimonos - cheap, filthy, and torn - that he didn’t even technically own. They were nothing more than badges of his being a whore, and the thought of taking them with him felt wrong. 

Viktor shook his head docilely. “No, master.” 

“Oh.” Yuuri sounded a bit uncomfortable and concerned, although Viktor could not fathom why.

“Alright, then.” The human offered a small smile. The pair exited the poorly-lit brothel and stepped out into the brilliant sun. Viktor couldn't help but hope that his new life would be this bright.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yuujo- prostitute or whore
> 
> nage-komi-dera- a temple where the bodies of whores were dumped
> 
> nagajuban- a slip-like garment under the kimono
> 
> datejime- a sash that ties the nagajuban
> 
> obi-a wide sash around the kimono
> 
> obijime- a cord that holds the obi in place
> 
> tabi- socks with an indent between the big toe and the rest of the toes, meant for when one is wearing sandals
> 
> Please let me know if there are any inaccuracies! I worked really hard on this chapter, I hope you like it~
> 
> Thank you so much to the lovely aphhun and izzybee92 for helping me so much! Don't know what I would have done without them~ <3  
> https://archiveofourown.org/users/aphhun/pseuds/aphhun  
> http://archiveofourown.org/users/IzzyBee92/pseuds/IzzyBee92


	5. Dum Spiro Spero

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri takes Viktor home with him, and Viktor starts to get used to his new surroundings.

The pair of them grabbed their shoes and pulled them on. Yuuri thought about how it had only been the previous night that he'd found Viktor again. It felt like that had been months ago. He managed to hail a taxi carriage driver, and held the door open for Viktor. He offered his hand to hand to help him up, but Viktor didn't take it. Beneath Viktor's smile was confusion, which saddened Yuuri. He simply stepped into the cab, and Yuuri followed suit. 

 

The two of them sat down on the worn, ripped seat cushions and faced each other. When the rickety carriage lurched over a pot-hole, they both slid forward and Yuuri nearly ended up on the floor. The awkward silence between them was so palpable that one could almost cut through it with a knife. Yuuri found it difficult to look directly at Viktor, so he stared intently at his boots instead. He had no idea what to say, and apparently Viktor didn't either. He was just sitting there, aquamarine eyes unfocused and a hollow facade of pleasantness obscuring his true emotions. 

 

Yuuri was painfully reminded of the fact that Viktor probably thought that he was just a pervert who had bought him for sex. He wished that he could inform him that that wasn't the case, but all the confidence he had displayed earlier had vanished into thin air. Both of them silently watched the buildings pass by through the dirt-stained windows. Yuuri turned his head when he thought he heard a stifled yawn. Viktor's eyes were wide, and a hand was pressed to his mouth. Immediately, he lowered his gaze and head.

 

“I am sorry if I was too loud, Master.” Yuuri tried his best not to cringe. There it was again. Master. He hated the term very much, but he had no idea how to say how uncomfortable it made him. Hopefully, Viktor would eventually realize that Yuuri wanted them to be equals and stop calling him that. 

 

“Are you tired?” Yuuri asked gently, concerned. He had glimpsed a corset cinching Viktor’s waist from the gaps between his fingers earlier, when he had been getting dressed. He recalled the angry red flesh and wondered how long he'd been wearing that dreadful thing. Presumably, he hadn't unlaced it the entire night; Yuuri couldn't imagine that that led to very restful sleep. 

 

“No, I am fine,” Viktor told him with a forced smile, conspicuously struggling to keep his eyes open. His silver eyelashes fluttered, and his shimmering blue-green wings were collapsed with exhaustion. Yuuri could see him pinching himself with his nails to try and keep himself awake. Little crescent moon marks with scarlet blood beading up at the seams stood out against the pale canvas of his skin. Guilt swelled up within Yuuri. Viktor was willing to hurt himself in order to avoid displeasing him. It absolutely devastated him. How much had Viktor endured to have been conditioned like this? 

 

“It's okay for you to sleep,” Yuuri assured timidly. Viktor gritted his teeth to cover another yawn. Every time he blinked, his eyelids slipped further and further down. His limbs looked as if they were weighted with lead, and eventually his breathing slowed and his head drooped forward. The coach went over a bump, and he slumped onto his side on the seat. His delicate body kept getting jarred as they careened into ruts, and yet he looked so peaceful. Yuuri felt the urge to move over there and hold him close so that he wouldn't be jostled by the pot holes and mounds on the crudely paved road. He didn't dare to, though. Viktor might wake up and think that he had ill intentions.

 

After the carriage jerked particularly violently, Viktor’s ponytail slithered over his shoulder. It pooled on the filthy floor, and guilt clenched in Yuuri’s belly. He didn't want that pretty hair to be touching the muddy bottom of the carriage. He made a split second decision and stood up, using the walls as support as the carriage jolted around. He almost fell, but caught himself. Seeing the city blur by outside, he began to feel ill. Hands trembling, he bent down and picked up the thick ponytail. It was so soft in his fingers… He almost felt like he was desecrating it by making contact with it. 

 

As carefully as he could, Yuuri tucked the cord of hair underneath one of Viktor’s massive wings, which looked painfully fragile in spite of their size. He waited a second to make sure that it didn't slip back again, then let out a breath that he hadn't realized he'd been holding. He collapsed onto the seat, and a spring poking out jabbed his thigh. 

 

“Ah!” He winced and rubbed the tender sore spot, then looked up to see familiar-looking parks and public buildings. They must almost be at his house. 

 

Tapping his foot anxiously, he wondered if Viktor would like it there. He prayed that he would… He had a room with a high ceiling and skylight that wasn't far from his. Perhaps he could have some perches installed? He knew enough about fairies to know that they enjoyed basking in the sun above the ground, and he wanted Viktor to be as accommodated as for as possible. 

 

The coach rolled to a halt, and Yuuri blinked to clear his thoughts. He stood, and nearly hit his head on the roof. What should he do about Viktor? He didn't want to rouse him, he had been so tired… Yuuri opened the door and took a deep breath, determined. He knew what he had to do.

 

Tenderly, he tucked an arm under Viktor’s legs and one on his lower back below his wings. He could feel the corset under his touch, and sorrow tugged at his heart. Viktor was already thin, and then having this torture device crushing his lungs on top of that… Bitterly, Yuuri thought about his own corset. He wouldn't wish it on his worst enemies. Making sure that he had a good hold on Viktor, he lifted him up. He was far lighter than Yuuri had anticipated, but it was impossible to know if that was due to Viktor being a fae or to his slender frame. Perhaps both. 

 

Viktor’s head was resting on Yuuri’s chest, glossy lipstick-smudged lips slightly parted. Yuuri gulped, pulse racing. ‘He's beautiful.’ Gingerly, he stepped onto the cobblestone street and Viktor’s eyelashes fluttered again. Yuuri stood perfectly still and held his breath in fear of disturbing the exquisite creature in his arms. Viktor didn't stir, so Yuuri made his way to the front of the cab, where the driver was waiting expectantly. 

 

When the man saw Yuuri carrying a fairy, he smirked. Yuuri clumsily maneuvered to procure some coins from his wallet. Carefully he reached up, upper arm supporting Viktor’s head. The driver snatched the money up greedily, and then lashed the reins.

 

“Hi-ya!” The horses broke into a swift trot, leaving a cloud of dust in their wake. (It hadn't rained in awhile.) Yuuri’s throat went dry, but he suppressed the coughs so that Viktor wouldn't be shaken. Curling his hand back onto Viktor’s waist, he began slowly ascending his front steps. After an arduous climb, he shuffled in his pocket for his keys and thanked his lucky stars that they were still there. With a concentrated effort, he shakily unlocked the door and turned the brass knob. 

 

Yuuri entered with a sigh, breathing in the familiar scent of his home. He realized that that had been the longest that he'd been out of the house in quite some time. 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Viktor stretched as he awoke, yawning widely. He opened his eyes, and panic shot through his veins. Where was he? His environment was entirely unrecognizable. The ceiling had exquisite crown molding of flowers and ivy, embellished with gold. An ornate chandelier with sparkling crystals dangling from it and glass beads was hanging above his head. He looked up at it in awe, although fear was pulsing inside of him. 

 

Was this Yuuri’s house? If so, then why was he in such a luxurious room? Oh no. Would he be punished for falling asleep? He really hadn't meant to, he'd just been so weary… He sighed and smiled, resigned to his fate, then pushed himself up and turned to face the door. (Fairies had to sleep on their stomachs or sides to avoid hurting their wings.) Covering his legs were several layers of blankets. The one on top was masterfully crocheted, and the one underneath was quilted with great skill. Viktor was making the bed dirty with his unclean body, he was sure of it. 

 

Swallowing delicately, he rested his hands on his lap and folded his wings. He caught a glimpse of the scabbed-over stump of his index finger, pus beginning to ooze out, and raised his gaze sharply. He kept feeling like it was still there, getting phantom pins-and-needles and stabbing pain. He blinked away tears to maintain his happy facade, then froze as the door opened a crack. Light spilled in from the hallway. 

 

Yuuri peeked in, and his eyes widened when he saw that Viktor was awake. He slipped into the room, and they stared at each other without a word until Viktor coughed lightly. He bowed his head, eyes unfocused so that he didn't have to see his missing finger clearly. A practiced smile graced his lips. 

 

“Thank you for having your servant carry me here.” He dared to glance up, and glimpsed Yuuri’s face. Why did he look confused? A feeling of dread settled in Viktor’s stomach. 

 

“Oh. I don’t have any servants, I brought you up here.” Self-reproach and terror flashed through Viktor. 

 

“I am very sorry that I fell asleep and that you had to carry me, Master. Please give me whatever punishment you think is most suitable,” he apologized with forced cheerfulness. 

 

“Oh.” Yuuri looked troubled and ill. What was wrong? “I-I really didn't mind. It was no trouble.” Such a kind man, helping a lowly and disrespectful fairy. In that situation, most masters would have thrown their slave down in the street to wake them up. 

 

“If you are sure…” Viktor dipped his head submissively. Yuuri slowly moved closer, as if he were afraid that he would run away. 

 

“There's a room that I think will fit you very well,” Yuuri told him with a half-smile. Melancholy dripped from Viktor's heart as he stroked the soft blankets. Of course this was too good to be true. He was going to be escorted to the slave quarters. He could only hope that they had plumbing and running water. He sighed inwardly as he got off of the bed. The geta that he had been wearing earlier had been removed from his feet. Yuuri held the door open for him (although it should have been the other way around). 

 

They padded down the garnet-colored carpeted hallway, barely making a sound. Viktor looked up in amazement at the enormous old paintings on the walls. They all looked so refined, and had similar features to Yuuri. He wanted to run a hand along the faded ornate wallpaper, but he knew that that would be improper. Yuuri came to a stop only a few paces away in front of a door directly to the left of the one that Viktor had woken up in. This was strange; why would the slave quarters be so close to the normal bedrooms? Usually they were out of sight, where visitors wouldn't have to see the filthy slaves.

 

Yuuri turned the knob and pushed the door open. He beckoned to Viktor, smiling softly. 

 

“This room is for you, if you would like it.” 

 

Looking at the ground and preparing for the worst, Viktor cautiously stepped forward. Lifting his eyes, he sharply took a breath. The room was beyond his wildest fantasies. The vaulted ceiling was incredibly high, and there were massive wooden beams holding it up. A skylight above filtered in rays from the sun. There was a bed with a petal-pink gossamer canopy, and the peony-embroidered covers looked so comfortable… A vanity with a mirror was off to one side, a thick shroud of dust covering it. A velvet couch with a gold leaf back and claw feet was against one wall. 

 

His eyes were drawn to a huge, intricately carved cherry-wood wardrobe. A piece of cobalt blue fabric was peeking out, and his heart leapt. But then… it rapidly sank again. He smiled ruefully, and his gaze dropped. 

 

“An amusing jest, Master,” he chimed with as much brightness as he could muster. Yuuri took a moment to respond. 

 

“What?” he asked, and Viktor turned his head to face him. Yuuri looked confused at first, but it quickly morphed into a heartbroken expression. Guilt pooled in Viktor’s belly. What had he done to elicit such a response? “Viktor… This wasn't a pretense.” Yuuri seemed on the verge of tears. Oh no, what should he do?

 

“I'm sorry,” Viktor told him, allowing himself to appear more serious. Yuuri offered a sad smile. 

 

“Please don't apologize. This room and everything in it really does belong to you. You can do whatever you like with it.” Still not daring to think that this room could actually be his, Viktor searched Yuuri’s visage for a hint of malice in order to avoid humiliation. 

 

But… There wasn't any. His mouth opened slightly, his heart soared, and his eyes filled with tears. Touching his hand to his chest, he exclaimed,  
“Thank you.” This was the nicest thing that anyone had ever done for him in his entire life. Viktor beamed, and Yuuri smiled bashfully in return. 

 

“You're welcome.” They looked into each other's eyes, neither speaking a word. Yuuri flushed scarlet, and his eyes darted away. “I-I'll be in the kitchen if you need me. Feel free to make yourself at home.” He turned and left, biting his lip, before Viktor could ask him where the kitchen was. He hoped that Yuuri wasn't cooking food for him, because that should be his job. (Although he had to admit, he was “unskilled” in the culinary arts to say the least.) 

 

Viktor raised his head and did a full spin, ponytail swinging out behind him and settling against his thighs. He pinched himself to make sure that he wasn't dreaming, but he didn't wake up. With a breathless laugh, he laid down on his front on the fluffy white rug with his arms spread out on either side. He opened his wings so that they could warm in the sunlight streaming in overhead. It felt so nice, the heat radiating over the surface of his wings and into his core. 

 

He nearly melted in contentment; he couldn't recall the last time that he had been allowed to bathe in the sun like fairies were supposed to do. It must have been… when he was a child. He could remember the feel of the plush moss of a tree branch under his belly, the sound of the birds chirping nearby…  
He quickly stood up to dispel the flood of memories threatening to burst. His boyhood wasn't something that he wanted to think about right now. 

 

Fluttering his wings to move forward, his toes brushed the floor lightly. He came to a halt in front of the armoire, and sunk his feet into the thick carpet. Heart beating quickly, Viktor placed his left hand on the rose-shaped knob and then pulled the door open. When he saw the contents of the wardrobe, he gasped and his eyes widened. It was stuffed full with beautiful clothing in a rainbow of hues.

 

Almost afraid that the clothes would disappear at his touch, he reached out and gingerly grazed his fingertips over the sheer sleeve of the blue dress. It was cool and silky, not at all like the clothes that he was used to wearing. This was so finely sewn, and he could tell that the person who made it put a lot of time and care into its creation. He carefully took it off of its twisted wire hanger and held it up. Oh, it was lovely. 

 

The dress was in the style of about ten years ago; sleek and elegant. Periwinkle-colored lace trimmed the sleeves and the upper layer of the skirt. The bodice had navy blue embroidered roses and vines on it, gracefully arching. The lower part of the skirt was royal blue taffeta, lengthy and flowing. Holding the gown up to his body, he pictured wearing it and smiled blissfully. It smelled musty, as if it had been closeted away for many years. 

 

Viktor didn't mind though. He twirled and swayed back and forth to imaginary waltz music.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to hopefullyanauthor and izzybee92 for helping me so much! They're both so nice, and I don't know what I would have done without them, they were very useful~ 
> 
> http://archiveofourown.org/users/hopefullyanauthor/pseuds/hopefullyanauthor  
> http://archiveofourown.org/users/IzzyBee92/pseuds/IzzyBee92


	6. Abluere

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri learns more about fairies, and realizes how poor his eating habits are. Viktor discovers the wonders of taking a proper bath.

Yuuri got to the kitchen and began aimlessly shuffling through his cupboards, heart racing and mind unfocused. For some reason, he always got flustered when he was around Viktor. When he gained his bearings again, he realized that he had been putting random items onto the counter. As his eyes swept over the sparse array of spices, dried food, crackers, and pickled goods that he had procured, he was struck by the reality of how poor his eating habits were. How had he survived this long? Poor Viktor, he deserved only the best food and not this rubbish.

Yuuri would have to go shopping later that day. He cursed himself, biting his lip. He had said that he would get Viktor food, but he only had a vague idea of what fairies ate. All he was certain of was that they didn't eat meat, but beyond that he had no clue. Nervously adjusting his glasses, he left the kitchen. Hopefully Viktor wouldn't think him too stupid for not remembering to ask. 

Yuuri quickened his pace as he traversed the hallway. He always felt like his relatives’ paintings were boring down on him, ashamed of what a failure he had become. With quiet, cold gazes they judged him for isolating himself and not doing anything with his life. Eyes down, he passed by his room and arrived at Viktor's. The door was still ajar, and he tentatively peeked in. 

There was Viktor, dancing ethereally on light feet. A real smile was playing across his lips, and his eyes were closed. He was holding an old dress, that might have belonged to Yuuri’s cousin, up to his chest as he twirled gracefully. The blue gown complemented his hair and skin perfectly. It contrasted brilliantly with his aquamarine wings, which were shimmering in the sunlight that streamed in from above. Long silver strands of hair were coming loose from his ponytail, spilling around him and catching the light like the threads of a spider’s web. He looked so blissful- at peace. 

The sight was absolutely mesmerizing, and Yuuri found himself transfixed; his mouth had fallen slightly open. There was something so… unhuman about Viktor's movements. Every motion was filled with such fluidity and poise. Yuuri felt like he was invading something incredibly personal and perhaps even sacred, but he was held in place by some unseen and powerful force. 

Viktor spun like a dancer in a music box. His half-lidded eyes widened, however, when he caught a glimpse of Yuuri standing in the doorway. He froze, before immediately dropping to his knees and bowing his head. The genuine smile from moments before had hardened into a false one. He held out the dress with his left arm.

“I am sorry, Master.” Yuuri winced at the title. “I shouldn't have touched it with my filthy hands.” When he heard this, Yuuri felt like his heart was cracking. Was this his fault for intruding so abruptly? 

“It's alright, Viktor…” He tried to sound comforting, but was unsure how effective it was. Treading softly, he slowly moved forward. 

“Give me whatever punishment I deserve.” Now that he was closer, Yuuri could see Viktor's body trembling. His shaking wings were folded behind him in submission. Oh, he wished that Viktor could be assured that there was nothing to fear. Yuuri knelt down cautiously so that they were at eye level, though Viktor was staring firmly at the ground. 

“Viktor.” He hoped that his voice sounded soothing, and not as unsure and worried as he felt. “I told you that everything in this room is yours.” Yuuri was careful to avoid seeming accusatory. 

“I thought that you were unaware that the clothes were there, because surely I have done nothing to warrant being allowed such a luxury.” This was heartbreaking. How could this poor fairy’s old master have been so despicable that he thought that he didn't deserve clothing? Yuuri reached out to touch his shoulder in consolation, but Viktor flinched. He rapidly withdrew his hand. The nausea growing in his stomach twisted as he realized that Viktor had been anticipating pain. 

“I-I knew the dresses were there. They're for you.” He offered a solacing smile. Viktor lifted his eyes, and Yuuri saw that a touch of light had returned to them. 

“Really?” Viktor asked hesitantly, a tentative smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He still seemed wary- afraid to get his hopes up. 

“I promise,” Yuuri told him firmly, praying that Viktor would believe him. Viktor blinked, a calculating expression hidden under his ever-present happy facade. His ocean eyes studied Yuuri for a second, and then a beam broke out across his face. Laugh lines crinkled around his mouth and under his eyes, and Yuuri's throat went dry. He clutched his chest, in fear of his heart beating out of his rib cage. 

“Thank you.” Viktor's voice was choked with emotion.

“O-of course,” Yuuri stammered. He stood, then offered Viktor his hand to help him up. Viktor looked at it in confusion and then pushed himself into a standing position on his own with a fixed smile. Yuuri couldn't help but feel a bit disappointed, although he didn't expect Viktor to trust him yet. It was natural for him not to accept physical contact right away; he was likely used to only being treated harshly by humans. 

Yuuri stared at him dumbly for a second, mind stalling. He couldn't recollect exactly what he had come here for in the first place. Then, with a jolt, he remembered. 

“Viktor, what foods do you like?” he blurted out, then flushed in embarrassment. Viktor looked at him, surprised. 

“What do I like?” He cocked his head to one side, pondering the question. “It's really alright?” 

Yuuri was silent for a moment, captivated by the way Viktor's hair had shifted around him when he had moved, when he realized that he was being spoken to. 

“Oh! Yes, definitely.” 

“Well…” Viktor absently moved to tap his chin with his missing right index finger. He winced, and sorrow flashed over his face. Yuuri shivered at the sight of the bloody stump. The wound looked so much worse in direct light than it had under the dim flame of the brothel lanterns. It was clearly becoming infected; the flesh was swollen, red, and oozing with pus. He made a mental note to find a doctor who would treat fairies as soon as possible. 

With a gulp, Yuuri tried to gather himself. Viktor had placed his left pointer finger on his chin instead. 

“I like to eat…” His eyes positively shone, and then his face slowly morphed into a grin. “I like to eat fruit, nectar, and food made with dairy.” Ah. Yuuri didn't think he had any of those things besides butter and small lemon candies; he suspected that a diet of those alone could not sustain Viktor. He would have to go shopping that day, something he dreaded, but he would endure it for Viktor’s sake. He felt so incompetent and poorly equipped… 

“I'll go and buy some more food for you later.” Yuuri tried to work through a schedule in his head- should he have the doctor visit or purchase food first? Having a doctor see Viktor was the priority, he decided in an instant. He swallowed. “Right now, I'll see what I can find… Can you eat eggs?” Viktor's eyes brightened.

“Yes! Eggs are delicious, but I can only eat them once in awhile.” A touch of relief dampened Yuuri’s anxiety somewhat. He was sure that he still had some eggs in the icebox, so at least Viktor wouldn't starve. 

“I'll make you some. Is that okay? How do you like them?” 

“I'd love that.” Viktor smiled warmly, gratitude clear on his face. “Any way would be perfect.” 

“Alright. I'll call a doctor as well.” A shadow of panic darted across Viktor's features. Yuuri knew that feeling all too well, and his heart ached for Viktor, but even if it was a source of anxiety, that hand needed medical attention right away. “I'll be back soon, okay?” Yuuri told him gently. 

He bit his lip and turned to leave, then recalled something. “Oh!” How had he forgotten? “See that door there?” Viktor glanced back over his shoulder, and nodded. “That's a bathroom. There's all sorts of soaps and oils in there, feel free to take a bath and use whatever you want if you'd like to.”

Yuuri wanted so badly for Viktor to feel at home. 

“And,” he added, “You can wear that dress if you'd like.” Without thinking, he winked. Immediate regret washed over him, and his face grew hot. “I-I'm so sorry, I didn't mean-” 

Viktor smiled, seeming slightly amused. 

“Okay,” he chimed. He bowed his head, loose locks cascading around his face and obscuring it from view. “Thank you for everything, Master.” Yuuri swallowed, a lump forming in his throat. He tried to work up the courage to tell Viktor to just call him Yuuri, but he was too afraid that Viktor would simply think he was at fault and apologize. 

“Of course,” he squeaked instead, then said goodbye and left the room. He was an utter fool, wasn't he? 

Keeping his gaze down, he strode down the hallway and to the telephone in the dining room. He only used it when it was absolutely necessary; it was even harder than usual to speak to people when he couldn't see their faces to try and gauge their emotions and body language. Not that he was good at that anyway. 

But this was important.

Hands shaking, he reached for the receiver on the wall and tried to work up the courage to speak to a complete stranger. He steeled himself. ‘For Viktor, for Viktor, for Viktor.’ 

He thought about that infected stump. With a gulp, he lifted the phone off the hook and dialed ‘O’. With every click of the rotary dial, his nerves jumped. He leaned closer to the mouthpiece and waited for an operator to answer.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Holding the blue dress close to his chest, Viktor carefully placed his left hand on the knob and turned it. He pushed the door open and stepped in, eyes wandering over the room in amazement. There was a skylight here as well, although the glass texture was bubbled so that if a fairy were to fly overhead they wouldn't be able to see inside. 

The floor was exquisite marble tile with pink veins running through it, stunning even though it clearly hadn't been polished in quite some time. Viktor would make sure to do that, he wanted to prove to Yuuri that he could work hard. There was a lovely counter made of the same stone; a vase containing dried, cobweb-blanketed flowers was against the mirror.

The mirror. Viktor's eyes widened as he looked at his own reflection. He quickly turned away when he glimpsed a ghostly and emaciated form. He glanced back at himself for a moment, observing his smeared, crude makeup. A wry smile twisted his crimson lips. He was just a dirty slave.

Finally, he couldn't bear it any longer and tore his gaze from the pitiful sight. In the center of the room was an ornate, porcelain, slipper-style bathtub. Its claw feet, spout, and handles were golden under a layer of grime.

Nailed to the wall with detailed, jaded metal brackets was a shelf stuffed with a collection of dust-covered vials and bottles. They were made of green and cobalt blue glass, and full of various liquids and cremes.

Softly, Viktor pushed the door shut behind him. There wasn't a lock on it, but he figured that Yuuri wouldn't enter without knocking first. He tenderly folded the dress and placed it on the counter, smoothing the sleeves and trailing a hand down its embroidery and lace. 

He stepped over to the bath and pressed the stopper into the drain so that water couldn't escape. Cautiously, he tapped the handle before he turned it. (Iron would burn any fairy that touched it.) Steam hissed up as the water hit the cool surface of the tub. 

Viktor kneeled and watched it fill up, smiling in wonder. The running water was incredibly clear, with no particles of dirt or rust like he was accustomed to. It was hot, too- he could feel its warmth on his face, and mist soon veiled the room like stepping into a cloud. He took a white washcloth from an open cabinet and draped it over the lip of the bath, then also placed a fluffy towel on the rug. 

While he waited, Viktor stripped off his various kimono layers, obi, and ties. He was left only in his corset, drawers, and stockings. He folded the clothing as neatly as he could, then set them on a nearby wicker chair. Carefully, he slipped off his frilly tabi (now gray from age), and rested them on the stack of other garments. The drawers were pulled down, and then joined the pile. 

Finally, the part that he'd been dreading the most. Bracing himself, he undid the tattered ribbon lacing up his corset. It took a while; the knot was incredibly tight, and his crudely painted nails were too long to get a good grip. Having an agonizing stump for a right index finger certainly wasn't helping either.

When it was eventually undone, he tugged on the criss-crossing threads running up his spine to loosen the prison around his ribcage. Once the tension was gone, he began unhooking the busk studs. He undid the bottom clasp first, and then worked his way up. The corset was peeled off and then placed on the tile.

Viktor's torso finally relaxed after having been confined for so long. He took in a deep breath for the first time in ages, his ribs finally free. He looked down and winced. His chest, abdomen, and hips were covered with inflamed red marks and yellow, vertical stripes of blisters brimming with pus. Sighing, he forced a smile. Pain was a small price to pay for a small waist and nicely shaped figure, or so he had been told. 

He noticed that the water was lapping about two-thirds of the way up the tub, and twisted the handle off with a squeak; the flow abruptly stopped. Delicately, he dipped a toe in to test the temperature. He found it to be pleasantly hot. Gradually, he eased his foot into it and then stepped in with the other. He lowered himself down and embraced the warmth, even though it burned like fire against the sores on his torso. He'd never been allowed a bath like this before. 

Slowly, Viktor maneuvered his body and scooted back so that he could rest his wings on the lip and stretch his legs out more. His back was against the lower side of the slipper bath, there being no space on the higher side to lay his wings. It was clearly not designed with fairies in mind, but Viktor didn't really care. He was just grateful that he could bathe himself.

Silver hair floated through the water, obscuring his legs like fine netting. It waved back and forth softly, brushing over his skin. Humming blissfully, Viktor closed his eyes and tilted his chin up. He sat there for a while, enjoying the feeling of heat enveloping him. 

Eventually, he succumbed to curiosity and moved to see the shelf beside him. He scanned the amalgamation of containers, utterly lost. Where to even begin? He took a bar of what appeared to be soap. At least he knew what that was. 

With his left hand, he began clumsily rubbing up suds on his skin. He felt so slippery, all lathered up. Gently, he stroked the wash cloth along his body and watched the layers of grime disappear like magic. The thought made him chuckle.

Viktor got onto his knees and rubbed the soap a bit onto his scalp, then switched the tap back on and leaned under the stream. He carded his fingers through his hair until all of the bubbles had vanished. Setting the bar back where he had procured it from, he returned his attention to the other concoctions. Selecting a couple of vessels, he held them up to the light. He held the one in his right hand gingerly so that it wouldn't touch his wound.

He stared at them intensely, pursing his lips. It was a shame that he hadn't the faintest idea of how to read. It wasn't exactly common practice for slaves to be literate and educated. He supposed that he could call to Yuuri for assistance, but that would just be admitting his own stupidity. Instead, he tried to find clues that indicated a purpose. 

One of the bottles had lavender flowers printed on the side. He uncorked it and placed the other where it belonged on the shelf. He peeked inside to examine the contents. Within the bottle was a clear liquid with an ochroid tint to it. Could this be “hair oil?” 

Just as Viktor was about to pour some onto his palm, there was a rapping at the door. He fumbled with the bottle in surprise, and it dropped out of his fingers. It landed in the water with a plop and launched a small tidal wave that surged out onto the floor and splashed his face. 

“Are you alright in there?” came Yuuri's timid voice. Heart still pounding from shock, Viktor spluttered and blinked away droplets. 

“I'm fine,” he assured.

“Alright. Well, I just wanted to let you know that the doctor is on his way. I set some food out for you on the dresser. I hope it will be enough until I can go to the store and buy you something more adequate.” 

“Thank you! I'll be out soon!” Viktor told him cheerfully as he attempted to fish the bottle out of the water to no avail. 

“Alright. Um…” Yuuri sounded like there was something else that he wanted to say, but he didn't. Yuuri just made out a hasty and awkward-sounding, “Goodbye,” before Viktor heard his new master’s retreating footsteps. 

He scooped up the bottle, stood, and pulled the plug. The water drained out, forming a miniature whirlpool. Wrapping the towel around himself, he marvelled at its softness against his various sores. 

He hadn't been this clean since before he'd been captured as a child.

With a bit of difficulty, he lifted up his hair. It clung to his legs in wet tendrils. He decided to put some of the serum in the bottle on it. The cleansing scent of lavender filled the air, mingling with the humidity, when he applied it to the ends of his long tresses. As he did so, he pondered whether or not Yuuri would make him cut off his treasured hair. It seemed unlikely that his new master would do that to him, but it was too early to tell. His previous owner had constantly threatened to do it. “Too much money to take care of,” Augustus Winthrop had told him through mouthfuls of saffron-seasoned pheasant. 

Viktor recorked the bottle, along with the bad memories. He had other things to worry about at the moment. Trepidation of the doctor's visit looming before him clenched at his throat. What was going to happen?

Before he began to get dressed, he took a moment to appreciate the metaphorical nature of his bath. It was like he had been baptized, born again and ready for a fresh start. At least, he hoped that would be the case.

With shaky hands, he put his corset back on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to hopefullyanauthor and izzybee92 for helping me so much! They're both so nice, and I don't know what I would have done without them, they were very useful~
> 
> http://archiveofourown.org/users/hopefullyanauthor/pseuds/hopefullyanauthor  
> http://archiveofourown.org/users/IzzyBee92/pseuds/IzzyBee92
> 
>  
> 
> We have some new faces in the next chapter! ^^  
> If you liked this, let me know! I love getting feedback~


	7. Forsan Miseros Meliora Sequentur

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The doctor and his assistant arrive to examine Viktor and give Yuuri some medicine for him.

From the dining room where he was anxiously waiting, Yuri heard the bathroom door click open. It sent his heart into a flutter, and he got up. He was halfway down the hallway when he realized that Victor would probably want to eat in private. But he was sure that his approaching footsteps had already been heard, so it would seem odd for him to turn back now. 

Gulping, he entered the room where Viktor was. His throat went dry immediately and his eyes widened. To his horror, he felt his cheeks grow hot and knew he was blushing. How could he not, though? 

Viktor was sitting daintily on a red velvet sofa with a gilded golden back. His damp hair was loose and spilling everywhere around him, the strands glittering like they held the stars in them. The blue dress clung to his willowy form as if it had been made for him. He resembled an exquisite blue flower, petals elegant. 

However… the short sleeves and tighter waist accentuated just how thin he was. He looked… fragile. His aquamarine wings were folded neatly behind him, catching the light brilliantly. Yuuri realized that he had been staring, and softly cleared his throat to gently let Viktor know he was there. It came out more like a squeak. Fidgeting, he pushed up his spectacles. 

Viktor glanced up and beamed. He seemed really happy, and Yuuri’s heart swelled. Then, as if he was self-correcting his behavior, Viktor lowered his eyes and forced that false, placid smile on. There was an awkward moment of silence, then Yuuri worked up the courage to speak.

“Is the food alright?” Yuuri wanted to punch himself. It was clear that none of the food had been consumed yet. The yolks hadn't been popped, and the whites weren't cut into. Viktor looked down to the plate he was holding in his lap, which bore two fried goose eggs that had been sprinkled with salt and pepper. Yuuri had wanted to make an omelette, but he didn't have the correct ingredients. 

“Oh, I haven't tried it yet. I’ve never seen eggs so big before,” Viktor marvelled. 

“Oh. They’re goose eggs.” 

“Wow!” Viktor stared at them in amazement. He lifted the fork and held it up to the light, admiring it. With his left hand, he then struggled to cut off a piece of the egg and bring it to his lips. Yuuri reprimanded himself for not slicing it into smaller morsels beforehand to make it easier for Viktor. Just as he thought that, though, Viktor grinned. 

“Delicious!” He sounded like he was being genuine, and Yuuri felt relief wash over him. Viktor scarfed down the first egg messily, with manners that one wouldn’t expect from a creature so fair. Yuuri found it awfully endearing. Quickly, however, Viktor’s eating slowed. The strained smile returned, and each bite seemed like it was forced. ‘Oh no, does he not like it anymore? Does it taste bad? Did I do something wrong?’ Mechanically, Viktor shoved another forkful into his mouth. 

“Stop!” Yuuri cried. Viktor looked up, alarmed. “You don’t have to eat it if you don’t want to.” Viktor’s shoulders sagged slightly, and he lowered his utensil. He looked rather ill. “Are you okay?” Yuuri asked gently. 

“I’m fine.” Viktor gave a weak grin to accentuate his point, but his eyes suggested otherwise. 

“Please be honest with me. I’m not going to hurt or punish you.” Viktor’s eyes glazed over, unfocused. He turned his gaze downwards. 

“It tasted good, but I started to feel sick,” he admitted softly. Yuuri sat down next to him, careful not to startle him or sit on a stray lock of hair. He chewed his cheek, unsure of what to do next. As tenderly as he could, he took the plate from Viktor’s slender hands. 

“Please don’t ever feel like you have to do something that’s hurting you, alright? Maybe you should lie down and rest.” Yuuri made sure that Viktor was lying down and comfortable, then left the room with the plate to fetch some herbs that would help with stomach aches. 

As he rounded the corner to the kitchen, a guess formed in his mind as to what could be the matter with Viktor. Perhaps the poor fairy was malnourished, and eating the rich food so quickly had been too much for his stomach to handle? If that was the case, that was truly heartbreaking. How could someone not feed such a sweet fairy such as Viktor properly? The thought filled Yuuri with anger and protectiveness.

Yuuri scraped the rest of the food into the bin, then set the dish and fork in the sink. He was about to begin washing it when he heard the doorbell ring. Palms sweaty and pulse racing anxiously, he made his way to the door. He opened it and prayed that this visit would go at least somewhat well. 

A grumpy-looking, short old man in a dark coat was standing there. His lips were downturned, and a broad black hat rested atop his balding head. Behind him was a fairy with gorgeous white wings. They had black along the veins, and the light passed through them like rice paper. His arms were folded, and there was a sour expression on his pretty features. With a frown, he entered behind the old man.

“I’m Doctor Yakov Feltsman. This is Yuri.” The man gestured to the fairy, who tried to blow the blonde hair out of his eyes. 

“Pleasure to meet you.” Yuuri extended his hand, and was ignored. 

“So, where’s the fairy?” Yakov demanded.

“Ah- ah,” Yuuri made out nervously, trying to think of the right words. Yakov was certainly intimidating. The other Yuri scoffed. Yuuri swallowed. “Come this way, please.” He bowed respectfully. Neither returned it, only followed him to where Viktor was. 

When they arrived, Viktor was stretched over the sofa on his front like the sleeping beauty told of by the Brothers Grimm. His hair was almost dry, fluffy and shiny and hanging in swathes all around him. With a cute little sneeze, he opened his eyes. When he saw that the guests were standing there, he sat up straight and brushed invisible dust off of his skirts. With a practiced smile, he lowered his head. 

“Why is he in a dress?” Yakov asked immediately and gruffly. “Some kinda fetish or something?” Yuuri blushed, embarrassed. 

“No, I prefer them,” Viktor piped up quietly. 

“Huh.” Yakov approached Viktor, who remained still. Yuri fluttered over to a nearby chair and slumped into it, appearing bored. He leaned against one arm of the chair, and slung his muddy boots over the other one. 

“Ah, maybe don’t-” Yuuri began timidly, but decided better of it. 

“Stand up,” Yakov commanded. Viktor swiftly obeyed, taking a moment to steady himself. “I need to do a physical examination. Please take off the dress. We can have your master leave if you wish.” The “master” part made Yuuri wince, but he didn't dare correct him. 

“No, I'm quite alright.” Viktor began untying the ribbon around his waist. It was a struggle using only one hand, but he eventually managed it. The gown hung loosely around him, and he carefully pulled it over his head before draping it on the back of the couch. Yuuri tried not to watch. Viktor was left in his corset, drawers, and lacy stockings. 

“You're going to have to take off the corset too,” Yakov told him with a touch of softness. Yuuri saw a flash of fear in Viktor eyes, but the fairy quickly got his composure back and pulled his hair over his shoulder. He hesitated, and his hands quaked as he fumbled with the ribbon lacing up his corset. The task was made more difficult from apparent nervousy and the missing finger. His wings were quivering slightly. He managed to get it undone, and loosened the faded ribbon. 

However, when Viktor tried to unlatch the busk studs, he couldn't seem to do it. Yuuri rushed over and helped the poor creature undo the clasps. Viktor stiffened, hands frozen. Yuuri’s heart pounded, and Viktor gradually relaxed and dropped his arms. Yuuri could feel the eyes of Yakov and the other Yuri boring into him, and his own fingers started trembling. 

But the corset was undone at last. Viktor turned, bit a petal-pink lip, sighed, then put on a cheerful, nonchalant veneer. He closed his eyes, as if he didn't want to see anyone's reaction. Yuuri felt terrible dread twist inside his gut. With a smile, Viktor pulled off the corset. 

Yuuri let out a sharp gasp of horror and pressed a hand over his mouth. Out of the corner of his sight, he saw the other fairy’s eyes widen and his mouth open slightly. His expression quickly morphed into rage. Viktor lifted his eyelids slowly, and looked like he thought nothing was wrong. But anyone who could see would know that this was not the case. 

Tears welled up in Yuuri's eyes as he took in Viktor exposed chest. It was sickly thin, the way one would expect a prisoner’s to be. His gaunt form and pale skin showcased every rib. The way that the ribcage was angled inward showed evidence that Viktor had worn a corset since he was little. 

Horrid blisters marred Viktor’s whole torso in vertical stripes. They were filled with yellow pus, and some of them were broken and oozing the sticky stuff. The entire area that the corset had covered was red and irritated. Bleeding welts, some of them encrusted over with dark scabs, marked the canvas of Viktor’s skin. 

Seeming like he was drowning in an abundance of silver hair, Viktor looked so small and vulnerable. Yuuri wanted to protect him at all costs. He would never, ever let anybody hurt Viktor like this again. 

Yakov cautiously stepped forward, as if he was afraid that Viktor would spook and run off like a deer. He carefully put his gnarled hands on Viktor and started prodding him. Yuuri didn't miss the way that Viktor flinched at the contact, and his heart ached. He guessed that Yakov was looking for broken bones. Yakov used his thumb and forefinger to pull Viktor's eyes open one by one, tilting his head back so that the light could dilate his pupils.

“Open your mouth,” he growled, and Viktor complied. Yakov squinted as he inspected the inside of Viktor’s mouth. Satisfied, he let go. He sighed. “Take off the drawers too. I need to examine you.” Viktor stood still for a second, blinking. “Well come on, I don't have all day!” Yakov snapped. His patience appeared to be growing thinner by the second. 

Viktor quickly did what he was told, and Yuuri's cheeks burned. He covered his eyes as Yakov checked Viktor's groin and backside for signs of injury or disease. 

He heard Yakov say, “Alright, now you can put your damn clothes back on.” Yuuri felt sorry for Viktor, he was probably terrified. He waited long enough to be sure that Viktor had his bottoms on, then peeked through his fingers. Viktor was about to put on his corset, and panic shot through Yuuri. Thankfully, Yakov acted faster than he did. 

“What the hell do you think you're doing?” Viktor smiled innocently.

“Just getting dressed, sir.” 

“I forbid you from putting on that blasted contraption, at least until you're fully healed. Even then, only safely, with an undershirt on, not too tightly, and certainly not everyday.” Viktor nodded, still smiling, but he seemed anxious. He pulled his dress on over his head. What had his former owner ingrained into his head to make him act like this, scared to take off his corset even for his own health? Yuuri wanted to weep at the thought. 

“Heh. Your master will just have to survive without seeing you in that thing.” 

Yuuri blushed, appalled. “What? No! I'm not- I don't want-” 

Yakov scoffed, and the other Yuri sneered disgustedly. Yuuri fell silent, tears burning in his eyes. He refused to let them fall. It was a terrible feeling to know that they thought he'd been the one that abused Viktor, but he was too shy to correct them. 

“Alright boy, let me see that finger.” Terror was evident in Viktor's eyes, and he gave a shaky, nervous laugh. “Come on, let's get this over with.” Slowly, Viktor raised his delicate hand. It looked so pale and fragile. Yuuri had to look away from the sight, and saw Yuri narrow his eyes.

~~~~~~~~~~~

The doctor took Viktor’s wrist gently, and his hand was rough and calloused and warm. Viktor fought the urge to tear his hand away. Doctors terrified him; he never felt safe with them, and they always seemed to be harsher to fairies. The doctor examined Viktor’s swollen finger stump carefully, expression firm and reserved. Viktor’s heart was tripping over itself in fear. 

The old man let go of Viktor, then fixed him under a serious gaze. Viktor smiled at him, chewing the inside of his cheek. 

“Sorry, kid, we’re going to have to drain it.” 

Viktor nearly had a heart attack. ‘Drain it?’ 

“Best if you sit down.” 

Pulse racing and in a daze, he obeyed. He wondered briefly if he could just bolt away, but suspected that that wasn’t the best idea. The doctor seated himself beside him. 

“Yuri, could you bring me my bag?” 

Viktor was surprised for a moment, but then realized that the man was speaking to the blonde fairy he’d brought with him. Apparently he shared the same name as Yuuri. “Yuri” rolled his eyes dramatically, then began dragging the bag over. His wings strained with effort as he tried to fly backwards while pulling it. It was ineffective, and he was forced to drop to his feet for better leverage. It only budged an inch with each heave. 

“Do you need help?” Yuuri asked. 

“I’m fine!” Yuri snapped. 

Eventually, he managed to bring it over. 

“Thank you,” the doctor muttered, although there was softness in his tone.Yuri's blue-green eyes landed on his missing finger, and he growled. Viktor felt guilty, like he had done something wrong. 

“What the fuck did you do to him?” Yuri demanded, whirling around to face Yuuri. 

“I, uh-” Yuuri looked mortified. 

“Yuri…” the doctor warned. Viktor was afraid that the blonde fairy would get punished. 

“You give him beautiful clothes and a lavish room, then go and do horrific things to him?!” Yuri seethed. “And then you call in a doctor and pretend that it wasn’t you who hurt him?” Anger, a rare emotion for Viktor, began to boil inside of him. 

“I didn’t do this to him!” Yuuri blurted out, clearly distressed. 

“Likely story,” Yuri snarled. Yuuri looked on the verge of tears. Viktor couldn’t take it anymore. He stood, smiling coldly at the little brat. 

“Yuuri is a very kind master,” he chirped cheerfully, but there was an edge hard as iron underneath. “He purchased me only yesterday, and has shown me nothing but kindness.” Then, beaming, he finished with, “So please refrain from speaking to him so poorly. Alright?” At the last word, he tilted his head to the side. He then sat down and casually adjusted his skirts. 

Apparently, Yuri had understood Viktor’s passive-aggressive message. He scowled, then sat down with a huff on the other side of the doctor. Yuuri gave Viktor a grateful look, one that made his heart feel like it was melting. He smiled, then turned back to face the doctor. 

“Alright, let me sterilize this…” the doctor muttered to himself. Yuuri sat beside Viktor, who could feel his warmth and felt a little stronger. Their arms kept brushing against each other, sending tingles down Viktor’s arm. The doctor withdrew a syringe from his bag, and a small box. From the box, he procured a large needle. Viktor shuddered, and let out a small noise. It might have just been his imagination, but it seemed like Yuuri leaned in closer to him. 

The doctor lit a match, and ran the flame over the gleaming needle. Viktor swallowed at the prospect of it piercing his sensitive flesh. The doctor snuffed out the fire, then attached the needle to the syringe and waited for it to cool down. 

Yuuri offered his hand, and Viktor stared at it in confusion. ‘Does he want to hold hands with me?’ Glumly, he pushed the thought away. Of course Yuuri didn’t, why would he want to hold hands with a dirty slave? 

But then, just as he had that thought, Yuuri gently said, “You can squeeze my hand if it hurts.” Viktor stared at him, barely able to mask his surprise. 

“Alright, are you ready?” the doctor inquired. Viktor pressed his eyes shut and nodded, although he was most definitely not ready. Suddenly, he felt the needle go into his tender skin. His eyes flew open in pain, and he gritted his teeth. Gingerly, the doctor started lifting the plunge on the syringe, and it began to fill with yellow fluid. 

Viktor had to look away. The agony was so great that black spots swam in front of his vision. With his left hand, he instinctively reached for something, anything to grab onto. His hand landed on Yuuri’s, and he grasped it tightly. Viktor squirmed slightly, trying to think about anything other than the sharp pain. 

Finally, all of the pus had been extracted. Viktor dared to look over, and saw the sore, red wound. When his wits returned to them, he released Yuuri’s hand as if it was searing hot. 

“I’m sorry,” he told him, bowing his head. Hair slipped from behind his ear and into his face. 

“Please don’t apologize,” Yuuri murmured softly. “You haven’t done a thing wrong.” Viktor met Yuuri’s warm chocolate eyes behind those round spectacles, and saw the seriousness in his expression. It made Viktor’s heart flutter like a butterfly, and his lips parted slightly. Yuuri tenderly moved Viktor’s hair out of his face and smiled at him. Viktor forgot how to breathe momentarily as Yuuri’s hand lingered by his face for a second. 

All too soon, Yuuri lowered his gaze as well as his hand, and Viktor felt the strange sensation that he had lost something. The doctor took his right hand again and inspected his finger stump. 

“Unfortunately, he is not a candidate for a prosthetic.” He let go of his hand, and Viktor’s heart sank. He really would never be able to play the harp properly again. He looked at his missing finger, then clenched his fist. It hurt terribly, but he deserved it. If he’d just behaved, he’d still have his finger. 

“Viktor?” He turned and met Yuuri’s concerned eyes. Yuuri opened his mouth to say something, but the doctor cut him off before he could begin. 

“Yuri, come over here and dress the wound, please.” Yuri stood up and walked over, dragging his feet and scowling at the ceiling. He yanked Viktor’s arm up and closed his eyes, then took a deep breath in. His fingertips began to glow an aquamarine color, and he gently ran them over Viktor’s stub. They felt soothing and warm, and the throbbing gradually lessened. Yuri seemed to have stronger healing abilities than most fairies. Viktor was very good at it, but he couldn’t use his magic on himself. 

Yuri pulled a roll of gauze, a cloth, and a small vial out of the doctor’s bag. He poured some of the contents in the vial onto the cloth, then dabbed it onto Viktor’s finger. It stung, and Viktor winced a bit. It kept burning for quite some time after it had been applied, and Yuri wrapped it up with the gauze. 

“Thank you,” Viktor told him when he was done, but Yuri frowned and took his seat again without a word, arms crossed. 

“Here’s a balm for those blisters.” Reaching over Viktor, the doctor handed Yuuri a jar full of a white cream. “Make sure he applies it topically at least once daily.” He then looked to Viktor. “And don’t wear that damned corset!” The corners of Viktor’s lips fell slightly. How was he supposed to be beautiful without a corset? 

“And as for that finger…” The doctor handed Yuuri a glass bottle and a fresh roll of bandages from his bag. “Wash it with warm water twice daily, and then put a couple drops of this on it afterwards and wrap it up.” Yuuri nodded, and Viktor was grateful that he had him there to remember all of this. 

“He’s malnourished as well, so don’t feed him too much. Slowly work up his intake until it’s normal, and feed him mild foods at first.” 

Yuuri dipped his head again. Satisfied, the doctor got up. Yuri copied him, and Yuuri left with them to see them out. Once they were all gone, Viktor let his false smile drop. His cheeks hurt. Sighing, he folded in his knees and rested his forehead on them, letting his hair cover his body like a blanket. He felt completely drained. 

When Yuuri re-entered, he rapidly sat upright and forced the smile to return. 

“Would you like some rice, Viktor? I think I have some somewhere…” 

“Just a little bit, if that’s alright.”

Yuuri bit his lip, as if he was thinking about something. 

“Viktor…” He stepped closer, worry welling in his eyes. Viktor racked his brain to try and recall if he had done something wrong. “You don’t have to make yourself smile if you don’t want to.” 

“Oh.” Viktor let his veneer fall. He thought that people wanted fairies that were pleasant and smiling all the time? Ones that didn’t show if they were sad or hurt. His old master liked to deprive him of his daily meal sometimes, and if Viktor let any sign of sadness or hunger slip through his facade then his master would demand that he be happy and smile. 

“I’m sorry!” Yuuri quickly exclaimed. “I didn’t mean that you should never smile, I just meant that you don’t have to pretend for me. I love your real smile!” Yuuri’s eyes went wide, and he covered his mouth. His face flushed red, and he looked to the side. Viktor found it very sweet, and genuine smile tugged at his lips. How very different this master was than his old one. 

“I’d better go cice the rook- I mean, rice the cook- I mean cook the rice!” he stammered, then turned and stiffly walked out the door. VIktor grinned giddily to himself, feeling a sudden burst of energy, and wiggled his wings. He couldn’t really explain what the feeling was that he had; it was so new and exciting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At long last, an update! Sorry it took so long... Thanks to Izzy, who did quite a bit of hand-holding, haha. Feel free to let me know if you see any mistakes! 
> 
> Please leave a comment or kudos if you liked it, they encourage me to keep going!
> 
> Thefloralfox (what a sweetheart) made a moodboard for this! It just made me so happy.  
> https://joelsweet.tumblr.com/post/165410661209/thefloralfox-for-joelsweets-break-a-butterfly


	8. Rara Papilionem

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri and Viktor go shopping for food and other items, and Viktor encounters a new threat.

Yuuri decided to go shopping the very next day. He needed food as soon as possible, for Viktor’s sake. The problem was, he was worried about leaving him all alone. What if he needed help with something? What if he got lonely? What if someone broke in? 

Yuuri had heard of thieves that snuck into houses and stole fairies along with valuable objects. Yuuri didn’t really care about the items in the house, but but he did care about Viktor’s safety very deeply. The house’s lock was secure, but one could never be too cautious. 

On top of the worrying about Viktor staying behind, Yuuri wanted him to be able to pick out things he liked. He thought it might help to improve his feeling of self-worth. 

Over their morning meal of porridge and honey, Yuuri asked Viktor if he would like to go shopping with him. Viktor smiled and tilted his head, clearly confused. 

“Shopping?” 

“You’ve heard of that, right? When you go out and buy things?” 

Viktor laughed a little, clear and ringing. 

“I know what it is, I just…” He looked down, and his face fell slightly. “ I’ve never been before,” he admitted. 

“Oh!” There was silence for a moment. “Well, don’t feel like you have to come with if you aren’t comfortable with it.” Viktor raised his gaze, light glimmering in his sea-colored eyes. 

“I would love to go with you.” He was clearly trying to mask his excitement, and Yuuri found it very sweet. 

“Are you certain you’re up for it?” He wanted to make sure, since Viktor was still healing and had been through so much recently. But Viktor nodded enthusiastically. But then he reigned himself in, and seemed somewhat saddened. “What is it?” Yuuri asked gently. 

“If you don’t want me to go, then I can stay here,” Viktor replied sadly. 

“No, no, I do! I just didn’t want you to do something that you aren’t ready for,” Yuuri quickly explained. Viktor seemed instantly relieved. “So when you’re done eating, you can go and get ready.” Viktor beamed and scarfed down his food (Yuuri didn’t even have time to remind him not to eat too fast), then placed his dish into the sink and began to wash it off. 

“Oh, I can do that for you.” Viktor smiled and curtseyed, holding the ruffled skirts of his nightgown. He practically skipped out of the room, and Yuuri chuckled quietly. It was wonderful to see him in such a good mood. 

“Oh!” He suddenly remembered something, and went to follow Viktor. He caught up to him just as he entered his room. Guilt pooled in his belly, Viktor seemed so happy. “Viktor…” 

Viktor turned when he heard his name. 

“Yes?” he asked, smiling. 

“I'm so sorry that I forgot, but… we need to dress your wound.” 

“Oh.” Viktor's smile vanished. 

“I'm so sorry, it'll just take a minute,” Yuuri apologized. 

“Alright.” Viktor bowed his head and trailed behind Yuuri to the bathroom. He sat down elegantly on the lip of the tub, hands crossed over his lap. The false smile was back, hiding fear. Yuuri felt terrible about having to do this, but it was necessary if Viktor was ever to recover. 

From the cabinet, he withdrew the roll of gauze, the cream, and the ointment. 

“Alright, the first step is to wash the wound with warm water.” Viktor stood, and slowly crossed the room over to the sink. Dread was evident on his face. With his left hand, he turned the squeaky handle. He cautiously dipped a pinky under the stream to test the temperature, then put the stump under it and winced. (Yuuri did as well.) 

Viktor waited a couple of seconds, then seemingly couldn't take it anymore and shut off the tap. 

“Are you alright so far?” Yuuri inquired softy. Viktor nodded. Yuuri got out a fresh washcloth and poured a small amount of ointment onto it. Viktor outstretched his hand, and Yuuri gently took it in his own. “Would you like to do it?” He offered the cloth to Viktor, who simply shook his head. 

Yuuri took a deep breath in, and then started dabbing on the medicine. He saw Viktor grit his teeth, muscles taut. Yuuri could hardly imagine how much it must be burning. ‘Poor Viktor,’ he thought sadly. He pulled away and dropped the cloth into the hamper, then tore a strip off of the roll of bandages and wrapped it around Viktor’s stump. He tucked in the ends, and both of them breathed a sigh of relief. 

Yuuri met Viktor’s eyes and quickly turned away, heart fluttering. 

“Make sure to apply the cream onto the blisters, I’m going to go get ready as well.”

“Alright.” Viktor smiled, soft and warm. “Thank you.”

Yuuri blushed, and he could feel the heat in his ear tips. 

“You’re welcome.” He left the bathroom and then recalled something, so he timidly peeked his head back in. “Viktor?” 

“Yes?” Viktor seemed to be glowing underneath the morning light slanting in from the skylight. Yuuri swallowed. 

“You can have any jewelry or anything else you find in the drawers, okay?” Viktor was stunned for a moment, but then a wide beam broke out across his face. 

“Thank you!” he exclaimed. Yuuri’s face melted into a smile. 

 

“Of course.” He then left Viktor’s room with a jumpy, giddy feeling in his chest. He went to his bedroom, closed the door, and then set about the task of deciding what to wear. 

Eventually, Yuuri settled on a plain lavender-colored button-down shirt paired with a dark silver vest that had light silver roses embroidered onto it. For his bottoms, he grabbed a pair of light gray, straight-legged trousers. He aso got out drawers and an undershirt, as well as a pair of white socks and black boots. 

Yuuri stripped quickly, his back to the mirror. He was feeling to strangely optimistic to be brought down by seeing the imperfections of his body. Quickly, he pulled on his top layers, then adjusted his collar and did up all the buttons. He was glad that the sleeves were sufficiently long; there were things that he would be embarrassed if Viktor saw. Finally, he tied a dark purple, satin cravat around his neck. 

Next came the drawers, trousers, socks, and boots; he pulled the laces tight. Just like Viktor’s room, his room had an adjacent bathroom. Yuuri entered it before taking off his glasses and splashing water on his face. Carefully, he wetted a comb and pushed his hair back. Without his spectacles, his reflection was a blur. (Which he was grateful for, he supposed.) 

He left the bathroom and traversed the fine carpet over to the bedroom door. Before he turned the knob, he remembered how frigid it had been outside last time he left the house, and fetched an iris-hued cloak from his wardrobe. He draped it over one arm and left the room. 

Viktor’s door was still closed, and he rapped his knuckles on it softly. 

“Are you nearly finished?” 

“I’m almost, I’m so sorry, I’ll hurry!” 

“No, no, there’s no rush.” Yuuri briefly considered waiting in the hall and leaning against the wall, but he could feel the painted eyes of his ancestor’s portraits boring into him. With a shiver, he called to Viktor, “I’ll be in the dining room, alright?”

“Alright.” Viktor’s cheerful voice made Yuuri smile without him even being conscious of it. He was such a sweet fairy. Yuuri entered the dining hall and sat down at the table. He rested his chin on his hand and looked up at the crystal chandelier above him. The extravagant shards and beads moved slightly when large trucks drove past the house. The candles on it weren’t lit, and had a layer of dust coating them. The light was coming in through the window, and was caught in the prisms of the chandelier, casting shadows with rainbows within them. 

Yuuri’s leg shook, but he stopped once he became aware that he was doing it. He sighed and stared off into space, eyes unfocused. When he heard Viktor enter, he nearly jumped out of his own skin in surprise. He whipped around, glasses getting knocked askew in the process. He adjusted them, and his eyes widened.. 

Viktor beamed at him. His hair was done into a long, long, plait that was tied with a violet ribbon. He wore a silk, lilac dress that had darker purple, delicate embroidery of lavender flowers and leaves. The bodice was laced up in the front, with a layer of white lace underneath. The skirt was open in the front, with many frilly, lacy pleated skirts peeking out. 

The shades of purple were stunning complements to Viktor’s aquamarine eyes and wings. He was as lovely as a doll, and Yuuri found himself awestruck. The spell was broken, however, when he noticed something. A sick feeling churned the porridge in his stomach. 

“Viktor, are you… Wearing your corset?” Viktor blinked, then lowered his head in shame. “No, no, I’m not mad at you, it’s just… You know it’s hurting you.” Yuuri could hear his voice breaking. “You want to heal, don’t you?” 

“I’m sorry,” Viktor apologized quietly. 

“It’s alright, just- please take it off.” Viktor nodded sadly, and Yuuri’s heart felt pinched. Wings drooping, Viktor left the room. Yuuri felt awful. Had he handled that situation poorly? 

He worried while he waited, and Viktor returned after a few minutes. To Yuuri’s relief, he didn’t seem to have the corset on any longer. Viktor still appeared to be a little upset, but his spirits were quickly returning. 

“Ready to go?” Yuuri asked, tugging his cloak on and grabbing his wallet. Swallowing down anxiety, Yuuri opened the door and the two of them left. He closed and locked it behind them. He walked down the steps to try and hail a cab. Viktor stayed close behind him, hands folded. 

Eventually, Yuuri managed to hail down a taxi coach. Many passed by, but must have seen Viktor and ignored them. A lot of drivers weren’t willing to have a fairy as a passenger, due to the common belief that they were thieves. 

“Where to?” the driver asked. 

“The shopping district, please.” The driver nodded, and looked down at the two of them with judging eyes. His stare felt hot and uncomfortable of Yuuri’s skin, and he quickly helped Viktor up into the carriage. The coachman shouted a command to his horses, and they jolted forward. 

To Yuuri’s relief, this carriage didn’t feel like it could collapse at any second like the last one had. The roof was tall enough that he didn’t have to worry about Viktor hitting his head. Yuuri watched him hum softly, tapping his boots against each other. The silence between them wasn’t really awkward, but he felt like he had to fill it somehow. However, he didn’t know what to say, and stayed quiet instead. 

Outside the window, the city was bustling with life. Ladies with big hats and parasols swayed down the streets, servants trailing behind and carrying their bags. Street urchins begged passersby for food, and Yuuri’s heart hurt for them. He vowed to give them money if he walked by any. Vendors on the sidewalks sold various fruits and trinkets. 

Yuuri, however, wasn’t really looking at any of that. Watching Viktor’s expression of unchecked wonder was much more interesting. His wide eyes and slightly opened mouth were so adorable that Yuuri’s heart threatened to melt like chocolate. The coach pulled over and rolled to a halt. He got up to leave, and had to tap Viktor’s shoulder to get his attention. Viktor stood and followed him out the door and into the bright sunlight. 

Yuuri paid, while his companion took in his surroundings. The driver smirked, tipped his hat, and was on his way. 

Viktor was looking a little overwhelmed, and so Yuuri guided him to a less-crowded street. Yuuri noticed how many people openly stared at them as they passed by. Well, they stared at Viktor anyway. The looks in their eyes lingered anywhere from curiosity to spite to barely concealed lust. Protectiveness clenched inside of Yuuri, and he wanted to shield Viktor away from their gazes. Viktor was absolutely radiant in the sunlight, almost as if he was glowing. 

Yuuri opened up the door to a shoe shop for Viktor. A bell chimed, and he closed it behind them. Viktor walked in slowly, like he was in a daze. The ceiling-to-floor shelves were stocked with thousands of boxes. There were benches set around to try on footwear, and round tables bearing featured shoes. Viktor’s face morphed from shock to a huge grin. 

“Wow!” he exclaimed excitedly, and Yuuri couldn’t help but smile. But then Viktor caught himself and reigned his emotions in. Yuuri watched him stroll around the store, staring at the displays like a child in a candy shop. 

“Would you like to try some on?” Yuuri asked him. Viktor's mouth dropped open.

“What? You can put them on?” 

Yuuri nodded, smiling. Viktor pressed his hands to his cheeks, his mouth in an “o” shape. He was so adorable that Yuuri thought he might die. 

“It's to see if the pair fits you and if you like them.” He followed Viktor's line of sight to a pair of shiny boots with little blue rose embellishments stitched onto them. 

“Can I…?” Viktor asked, with a waver of hope. 

“Yes, of course you can,” Yuuri replied. Viktor walked over to the display, and Yuuri helped him find a pair that was in his size. (There was only one box; Viktor's feet were rather large.) Viktor sat down at one of the benches, and unlaced his shoes. Without thinking, Yuuri knelt and helped Viktor slide his feet into the new boots. He laced them up, becoming self-aware halfway up and flushing slightly. 

Yuuri then offered his hand to Viktor to help him stand, but was given that familiar confused look. But then… Viktor cautiously reached forward and grasped Yuuri's hand. Yuuri's heart leapt in joy. This was such an important step. Viktor was starting to open up to him more, if only a little. 

He stood, and did a twirl. His braid flew out behind him. 

“How are they?” Yuuri asked, although Viktor's facial expression was enough to know the answer. His aquamarine eyes were filled with light, he was beaming. But then some of that light faded. 

“They're very nice…” he answered wistfully. 

“I could buy them for you, if you like,” Yuuri offered shyly. They made eye contact; Viktor looked startled. 

“Really?” He seemed like he was about to cry from happiness. Yuuri nodded and smiled. Viktor's mood was infectious. “Oh, thank you so much Yuuri!” he cried, then covered his mouth in alarm once he realized what he had done. “I'm so sorry,” he quickly apologized, bowing his head. His wings drooped. 

“Oh no, Viktor!” Yuuri placed his hands on Viktor's arms. They went stiff in fear under his touch, and he immediately let go. “Viktor…” Viktor wouldn't meet his eyes. “It's okay.” Yuuri swallowed. “In fact, I actually… I prefer ‘Yuuri’ to ‘master.’” Yuuri gave what he hoped was a comforting smile. “So it's alright.” 

Viktor’s shoulders sagged in relief, and his lips moved into a tiny, hopeful smile. 

“I'm so glad,” he whispered.

“Now, how about we buy these boots?” 

~~~~~~~~~~~

Viktor insisted on carrying bags that contained items for him. He didn't think it was fair for Yuuri to be paying and carry his things. His things. He could hardly believe it, it felt like a fantastical dream. He kept pinching himself to be sure that he wasn't asleep. In any case, he hoped that he would never wake up. 

He was humbled by Yuuri's generosity. It was incredible how much he cared about other people. Viktor watched as he offered poor people money and spoke to them kindly. He managed to make many of them smile, and it touched Viktor's heart. Yuuri had always treated him so compassionately. He was just a silly fairy with bad memory and missing finger, so why did Yuuri act like he mattered? 

It was a completely foreign feeling to have clothes that he chose himself; he was used to having only one set of garments besides when he was performing. The weight of the bags as he carried them filled him with an excitement he'd never known before. He could hardly wait to wear these clothes regularly. 

Yuuri bought him some ribbons, as well as some fairy-specific items that they found in a tucked-away shop. They got flower seeds, and Yuuri said that he had some old pots that Viktor could plant them in. There were snapdragons, lavender, marigold… Many were flowers that Viktor hadn't seen since he was a child and living with his family. The little drawings of the blossoms on the seed packets stirred up memories from long ago.

After a long and fulfilling day of shopping, the pair arrived at the last store on their trip. The inside had rows and rows of stands and shelves of food, sprawling farther than the eye could see. Viktor was awestruck. He could never have fathomed so much food in one place. There was a stack of baskets, and Yuuri took one. 

“What would you like to eat, Viktor?” Viktor was completely at a loss. He'd never even tried half this food before. Yuuri must have read his expression, because he quickly said, “It's alright, how about we start with bland foods like the doctor recommended?” 

Viktor nodded, smiling gratefully, and followed Yuuri around the shop with eyes full of wonder. He saw giant trays of cookies, colorful fruits in all shapes and sizes, and jars brimming with amber honey. Yuuri placed a loaf of bread in the basket, along with green, crisp apples, yellow bananas (the only bananas Viktor had tried had been mostly brown), yellow-and-red freckled nectarines, a carton of eggs, and a sack of red potatoes (Viktor never knew they came in that color). 

They passed by a stand with huge slabs of meat on ice and dead fish, and Viktor recoiled. The smell alone was enough to make him feel ill. He'd only had meat when his old master forgot to buy him and Chris food, and they got sick for days. 

Christophe… He was always at the back of Viktor's mind, teasing smile and olive-green eyes haunting him. Viktor kept thinking back to the last time they'd seen each other. For all Chris knew, he was dead. Viktor felt guilty whenever he thought about how he was being treated so well, while his dearest friend was still starving and alone. Christophe deserved to have a master like Yuuri. 

Viktor could hardly bear thinking about him still in those cramped, dark corridors. It had been barely tolerable only because they'd had each other; he couldn't imagine what it was like now. He wondered if Yuuri would let him visit him, at least. Maybe he could bring food and fresh water, or some flowers. They seemed like pitiful gifts, but Viktor wasn't sure how else he could help. 

On their way to the cash register, Viktor's eyes were drawn to a display featuring huge, dark green fruits with lighter green stripes and grooves on them. It was so bizarre, and he couldn't help but be curious as to what it tasted like. Yuuri gently interrupted his ponderings. 

“They're called kabocha.” 

“Kabocha?” Viktor echoed. He didn't think he'd ever heard that word before. 

“They're very tasty in soups, would you like me to make you some? Maybe not right away, but once you're a bit more healthy?” There was a dusting of pink over the bridge of Yuuri's nose. Viktor cocked his head to one side. 

“What if it goes bad before then?” 

“Oh! Don't worry, they don't go bad for quite a long time…” 

“Wow!” Viktor marveled, staring at the “kabocha.” Yuuri smiled and put one in the basket. It was loaded with food, and Yuuri was still carrying other bags as well. Viktor found himself impressed by his strength, noting that it didn't seem like a strain for Yuuri to hold all of those things. He recalled how Yuuri had carried him into the house when he'd fallen asleep on the carriage ride, and felt guilty at the impropriety of it all. 

They waited in line and were almost to the front when Yuuri suddenly sighed. 

“What's wrong?” Viktor asked, worried. 

“Nothing, I just-” Yuuri awkwardly pushed up his spectacles while still holding the basket. “I forgot seaweed,” he admitted. 

“I can get it!” Viktor exclaimed, eager to be helpful. 

“You remember where it is?” 

“Yes!” He was pretty sure, anyway. 

“And you'll be okay on your own?” Yuuri fretted. Viktor nodded, beaming. “Alright, if you're sure…” Viktor turned to leave. “You can leave your bags here; I'll watch them for you.” He carefully set down the large paper bags, and looked up to meet Yuuri's anxious eyes. “Please be careful?” 

“I will,” Viktor assured. Yuuri seemed so worried about his safety, but he was confident that he'd be alright. He started on his way, making some turns into the winding aisles of the store. Some had wooden ladders leaning against them to reach the items that were higher up.

When Viktor arrived at where he thought he had seen the seaweed, he found only an entire section devoted to picked goods. He backtracked a bit, but found himself completely lost. Panic began to creep into his belly, but he pushed it back down. He had to do this for Yuuri. 

As he looked to the signs that were affixed to the ends of the shelves, he mused that this would be a lot easier if he could read. At long last, he stumbled upon a shelf with stacks of dried seaweed sheets. He didn't know how many to get, so while he thought he reached out to take a piece of wax paper to hold them in. He was just wondering if five would be enough when he heard a voice behind him. 

“Hello there!” Viktor turned and saw a man with blonde hair and brown eyes. There was a wide smile on his tanned face. Viktor glanced to his right and left to see if there was somebody else the stranger could be addressing. There was nobody. “Hello,” he chirped again. 

“Greetings,” Viktor replied, smiling politely. The man seemed nice enough, but what could he possibly want? 

“What's your name?” he asked in a jovial tone.

“I'm… Viktor.” 

“I'm Seamus, I'm a merchant.” Seamus extended a hand, but Viktor only stared at it in confusion. Seamus dropped it to his side casually. Viktor was beginning to grow uneasy. This was all very odd. “You're very beautiful, Viktor.” 

“Thank you,” Viktor responded with a wary smile. He was about ready to run. Instead, he slowly moved to leave. “Well, it was nice to meet you,” he said in attempt to dismiss himself so that he could escape. 

Seamus strode over to him and Viktor felt him grab his braid. He froze in fear, a terrifying suspicion growing in his mind. He prayed that he was wrong. 

“I saw you earlier, and followed you.” Viktor racked his brain, trying to recall if he had seen this man before. He was too scared to think correctly. “It's gorgeous…” He felt the ribbon at the end of his plait being untied, and then fingers running through the strands. “So healthy, and there's so much of it…” Seamus murmured. 

Viktor was paralyzed, as if he had been turned to stone and couldn't move an inch. His heart pounded in his chest in terror, and there was a lump like a rock caught in his throat. Seamus pulled all of his mane loose, and it rippled around Viktor’s body in waves. 

“It's even longer than I thought,” Seamus remarked. “And those wings…” Viktor could feel Seamus’ light touch brushing his wings, and a shiver ran down his spine and out to his limbs. Goosebumps popped up all over his skin. “Such a rare and vibrant hue.” Viktor felt like sobbing from his fear. “How much would it cost to buy them from you?” Seamus asked, tone still light. There was a bite underneath.

“Your hair would eventually grow back.” He caressed the nape of Viktor's neck, and Viktor's muscles tensed up even more than they already were. “And I assure you…” Seamus gently pinched the base of Viktor's left wing. “You wouldn't feel a thing.” 

“You'd have to ask my master,” Viktor told him coldly. Speaking helped him to gather his strength, and he prepared himself to fly off as fast as he possibly could. Clearly, Seamus knew the signs of a fairy about to take flight, and he took Viktor's wrist in his iron grip. 

“If you run away,” he said innocently, “Who's to say that you aren't a thief?” The lump in Viktor's throat now felt like lead, and tears burned hot in the corners of his eyes as despair washed over him. “Now, where's your master? I'm sure he'd be more than willing to make a deal.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tell me if you see any errors! Thanks to Izzy for being a dear <3 
> 
> Hope you liked this chapter! Tell me what you thought :D I exist solely on affirmation.


	9. Te Semper Custodiam

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri defends Viktor from his assailant and comforts him as they make their way home.

Yuuri waited a bit for Viktor to return with the seaweed, but the people behind him in line were giving him aggravated glares and so he just paid for the items. He then carried all of the bags over to a bench and sat down, tapping his foot and shaking his leg anxiously. He buried his head in his hands, his brow furrowed. Fifteen minutes passed since Viktor had left, then twenty. 

Yuuri wanted to have confidence that Viktor could do this, but he was far too worried to just sit by. He stood, determined, and stiffly walked over to one of the employees (who was leaning against a wall, clearly not busy). 

“Ahem.” The worker didn’t even look over. Yuuri swallowed. “I-I have to go somewhere, could you watch my things for me?” he asked, gesturing to the bags sitting on the bench nearby. 

“Huh.” The employee ignored him, staring off into space. Yuuri frowned; he didn’t have time for this. 

“I’ll pay you.” 

The worker’s head snapped to make eye contact, suddenly very interested in what Yuuri had to say.

“How much?” His eyes had a greedy glint to them. Yuuri extracted a few bills, and the employee tried to grab them. Yuuri quickly tucked them back into his pocket. 

“You can have them if nothing has been stolen when I return.” The employee nodded enthusiastically, and Yuuri chewed his cheek. He didn’t really trust him, but it was his only option. Hopefully the worker’s drive for monetary compensation would make him more dutiful. 

It would break Yuuri’s heart if someone stole Viktor’s newly acquired items. Viktor had been so happy and grateful to receive them…

Yuuri set off in the direction that his sweet fairy had gone, and quickly found the row that he’d spotted the seaweed on. He supposed that he’d gotten distracted earlier, and that’s why he didn’t pick up any. When he turned onto the aisle, his eyes fell on Viktor, who was standing a few meters away. 

Yuuri’s heart skipped a beat at the sight of him, but it quickly froze to ice when he registered the scene before him. The terror in Viktor’s eyes, how his hair was loose and dishevelled, the stranger that was gripping his slender wrist with a rough hand. Rage and protectiveness flared up inside of Yuuri like a wildfire. 

“What are you doing to him?” he demanded. The grin on the stranger’s face was borderline maniacal. It sent a shiver down Yuuri’s spine. The man’s eyes contained the same greed that he had seen only minutes before in the eyes of the shop employee. Only in these ones… there was something dark deep within them. Something dangerous. 

It nearly sent Yuuri into a panic. He needed that man to let go of Viktor immediately. He needed Viktor to be safe in his arms. He needed to guard him from the world. 

“Are you this fairy’s owner?” the stranger questioned cheerfully, jerking Viktor’s arm up. When Yuuri saw Viktor wince slightly, he gritted his teeth in anger. 

“Yes.” Yuuri had to restrain himself so that he didn’t unleash a fiery beration upon this man. 

“I have a proposition for you.” The stranger’s eyes narrowed; his smile didn’t change. “I’ll buy this fairy’s wings and hair from you for 10,000.” Yuuri was enraged that he would even dare to discuss buying Viktor’s body parts so casually, like they were simply bartering at a flea market. Not to mention that 10,000 was a mere fraction of what fairy wings and hair sold for. It was offensive that he even would even name such a small offer. To Yuuri, Viktor was priceless. 

“So, do we have a deal?” The man asked. Yuuri stormed closer, keeping eye contact with the bastard the entire time. 

“Let go of him this instant,” he commanded, glowering through his spectacles. The stranger gradually released Viktor’s wrist, and there was a bruise developing where his hand had been. Viktor released a shuddering breath, and ran to Yuuri’s side. He stood behind Yuuri, hand gently resting on his shoulder. The man smirked, as if this was an amusing challenge. 

“I would triple the price,” he proposed. His voice set Yuuri on edge. “You wouldn’t even miss a bedmate’s wings and hair anyway. He would take up less room.” Yuuri colored in rage, and Viktor’s hand gripped his shoulder more tightly. 

“Absolutely not,” he replied firmly. “No part of him is for sale. And you would do well not to touch him ever again, or any other fairy for that matter.” The stranger laughed and then grinned. It made Yuuri’s belly swim with unease. 

“Not to worry. I’ll stop trying to buy them from you,” the man said with light overtones. Underneath, his voice was as sharp as a knife. Yuuri didn’t like the way that he emphasized the word “buy.” “Until next time!” The man strode past them, brushing his fingertips along Viktor’s left wing as he passed by. He held up his hand as a kind of wave, back turned to them, and disappeared around the corner. 

The second he was gone, Yuuri breathed a sigh of relief. 

“Are you okay?” he asked Viktor gently. Viktor let go of his shoulder quickly. He nodded, but his eyes looked empty and dull. Not a glimmer of the brightness and life from before remained. He seemed smaller, too, more vulnerable in the way that his arms were pulled in close to his body. 

“Why don’t we go home?” Yuuri suggested softly. Viktor gave a tiny, forced smile, and followed Yuuri to the front of the store. Yuuri paid the employee who’d watched their bags, then started picking them up. Silently, Viktor pulled his hair up into a tight bun with shaking fingers, and knelt to take his bags. 

“You don’t have to-” Yuuri cut himself off. He didn’t want to upset Viktor any further, and carrying less would put him in a better situation to protect Viktor should the need arise. They left the store, and Yuuri looked over to Viktor in concern to make sure that he was faring alright. His arms were tightly crossed and close to his body, hands grasping his upper arms. The bags were still looped over his arms. 

His head was bowed, and his wings were folded to take up as little space as possible. It made Yuuri’s heart ache. Viktor was trying to draw attention away from himself. Yuuri’s throat was dry, and he swallowed. 

“Would- would you like to use my cloak?” he asked gently. Viktor nodded timidly, eyes downcast and his mouth drawn into a line. Yuuri untied the string on his cloak, removed it, and then tenderly wrapped it around Viktor’s shoulders. With trembling fingers, Viktor attempted to tie a bow. With pain in his heart, Yuuri did it for him. Viktor pulled up the hood, covering his head. His eyes shone like aquamarines in contrast to the royal purple fabric, and silver hair swept over one side of his forehead like a veil. 

He lifted his eyes, and Yuuri knew that he was still frightened. It hurt him deeply. He couldn’t even imagine being viewed as a rare curiosity that could be bought and sold at somebody else’s leisure. They walked together in silence, Yuuri frequently looking up to check on his companion. 

It was foggy, but the sun was shining through it. Viktor’s height cast a ghostly shadow onto Yuuri. The light flickering through the mist refracted in the tiny water droplets filling the air. It was still chilly, and their breaths made puffs of steam. Whenever they passed by someone, Viktor leaned closer to Yuuri. The third time this happened, his arm brushed against Yuuri’s shoulder. 

“I’m sorry,” Viktor whispered, eyes sorrowful. Yuuri had a feeling that he wasn’t just apologizing for touching him. What could he possibly have to feel sorry for? It was Yuuri who was at fault. If he hadn’t let Viktor go off alone, than none of this would have happened in the first place. Guilt clenched inside of him. He was lucky that he got to Viktor in time; something terrible could have happened. 

A horrific image involving Viktor and the man stooping over him flashed in his mind. He shuddered. 

“Viktor…” 

“Yes, ma- Yuuri?” 

“Would you feel… safer if you were holding onto my arm?” Viktor blinked, surprised. He didn’t say anything for a while, and the pair’s slow walking came to a stop. Yuuri’s heart beat in anticipation and worry. Perhaps he shouldn’t have said anything at all… 

Viktor’s glossy lips parted, then closed again and he swallowed. His eyes looked distant. 

“Yes” he finally admitted, almost inaudible. Yuuri shifted all of his bags to his right arm (it was starting to burn, but he didn’t care), and offered Viktor his left one. Viktor shirted all of his bags as well and tentatively hooked his arm around Yuuri’s. 

His skin was cold, and Yuuri could feel it through his long sleeves. Instinctively, he leaned closer in an attempt to share his body heat with Viktor. His cheeks warmed when he realized what he’d done, but he didn’t relinquish his touch. Instead, he focused on his steps to make sure that he didn’t accidentally tread on Viktor’s feet. 

Viktor clung to his arm the rest of the way, as if he was using Yuuri as an anchor. They were eventually able to wave down a taxi in the fog. It was still easier than normal, considering that the driver couldn’t tell that Viktor was a fairy because his ears and wings were obscured. 

Viktor only let go of Yuuri to get up into the carriage. Once they were seated, he slowly slipped back to how he was before, thin fingers holding onto Yuuri’s arm. They stayed that way the entire way home, and Viktor’s skin warmed up. His touch felt so nice and right that Yuuri thought he could stay like this forever. 

Gently, Viktor rested his head on his shoulder. Yuuri didn't stop him, and the weight was a comfort. Viktor was right there next to him. He was safe. And Yuuri wasn't about to let anything happen to him.

~~~~~~~~~~~

“Viktor, would you like some fruit slices? I think that you’re ready for fresh fruit now, instead of applesauce.” 

Viktor looked up from where he was arranging clay pots in a row on the windowsill. 

“Yes,” he replied, beaming. Yuuri returned the smile and left the room. Viktor turned his attention back to the pots. A bag of soil laid open next to them. Carefully, he scooped up dirt with his hands and transported it to the pot. He repeated this a few more times, until the pot was three-quarters of the way full, then filled the other four. 

Next, Viktor picked up one of the seed packets, the one with the detailed illustration of marigolds on it. He flipped it over to look at the back. Although he couldn’t read and was unable to decipher the text, thankfully there were picture diagrams. He was sure to follow the instructions to the best of his ability, sowing the marigold seeds about an inch apart from each other like how the drawing depicted. 

Viktor supposed that he could just ask Yuuri for help with what the packages said, but he didn’t want to expose his own illiteracy. Meticulously, he planted seeds in each pot. There were still quite a bit remaining in each packet, so he folded the tops of them over for later use. 

When he was all finished, Viktor rested his chin on his hand and smiled contentedly at the pots. He imagined what his flowers would look like when they were in full bloom, vivid petals unfurled. But then his smile abruptly fell as memory fragments from long ago, like a pieces of broken china that had been swept under a dresser and found once more, replayed in his head. 

He could still picture the feeling of the soil under his bare feet, moist and rich. Light had shone through the green leaves above him, wind making them gently brush against each other. It had sounded like they were having secret, whispering conversations with one another as if they were gossipping. For whatever reason, he very clearly remembered that detail. 

Viktor’s mother had been there too, smiling down at him. Her face was now a mere blur in his mind. The years since they’d parted had faded her visage from his consciousness. Sometimes he would dream of her, and see her image clearly. But when he woke up… he always forgot again. 

Side by side, his mother showed him how to plant seeds and nurture them. She taught him how to focus his magic to give them encouragement so that would grow faster and stronger. He wondered if he could still do it… It had been so long since he’d been with living plants. 

Viktor closed his eyes and concentrated, fingertips pressed into the dirt. He reached out with his energy to the tiny seeds and pictured them growing roots and sprouting. He motivated them to open up and embrace the world. When he lifted his eyelids, he was greeted by tiny green stems poking out of the dark earth. 

Viktor’s heart swelled with happiness. It had been ages since he’d used magic in such an unrestrained way; it was highly taboo and his old master liked to punish him for it. That didn't deter him, however. He still used soothing magic when Chris had been injured. 

As his thoughts shifted to Chris, Viktor's elation dwindled like a dying candle flame. He missed his dear friend terribly. He'd never been bold enough to ask Yuuri if he could visit, even though he desperately needed Chris’ companionship. Whenever something had happened to one of them, they were there to comfort each other. They'd cuddle together, sharing warmth and telling stories from their homelands. 

In the few days that had passed since Viktor was threatened by Seamus, he'd been even more jumpy and skittish than usual. He imagined every noise that creaked in the darkness of the night to be an intruder, intent on stealing his parts to sell. He would lie there on his bed, alone, with the blankets covering his whole body as he hid. Even though it wasn't cold, he would shiver. 

Viktor longed for Chris to be there with him. He could always ask Yuuri to hold him and make him feel safe, but… he didn't wanted to cause him any trouble. Besides, it would be very improper of him to make such a request. 

Sighing, Viktor moved onto the next pot and focused on the tiny pieces of life within the shells of the seeds. Just as he was finishing coaxing the seeds in the last pot up, he heard Yuuri re-enter. He turned around to see Yuuri holding a plate that was bearing slices of various fruits. Yuuri placed it on a side-table and smiled at Viktor. His face was flushed, and he seemed so cheerful. 

Viktor’s heart skipped a beat, and he smiled back. 

“I wasn’t sure which ones you liked, so I cut up a few different fruits,” Yuuri told him, a bit sheepish. 

Viktor’s mouth watered. The apple looked crisp, the nectarine’s flesh was a brilliant gold, and the pear looked perfectly ripe and inviting. 

“Oh! And don’t worry about eating all of it, I’ll gladly take any extra. Just eat what you want.” 

Viktor walked over and extended his hand to take a piece, then glimpsed the dirt covering his hands and caught under his fingernails. Feeling guilty, he bowed his head and excused himself, then went to the bathroom to scrub his filthy hands. 

He looked over his shoulder, afraid that Yuuri would look disgusted at his dirty slave. But no. His master was peeking into the pots, wonder gracing his face. Viktor felt foolish, and turned on the tap. He scrubbed his hands with lots of soap and hot water, washing all over and under his nails until not a speck of grime remained and his skin was red and irritated. Even though he could see that he was spotless, he still felt tainted. He wondered if he would ever feel truly clean. 

Viktor fluttered his wings, toes brushing the floor, and settled his feet back down when he reached Yuuri’s side. Yuuri’s expression was almost comical. 

“I-I didn’t know that you could do this,” he marvelled, eyes wide. Viktor smiled with a stirring of pride. “Can you do any other things with magic?” Yuuri inquired, curious. “I-I mean, you don’t have to answer if it’s too intrusive,” he quickly added, waving his hands. 

“It’s alright,” Viktor replied. “I can also relieve pain somewhat.” 

“Oh!” 

Viktor found Yuuri’s interest very endearing, and it made him feel so happy that someone actually cared and was actively listening. 

“The other Yuri showed some of that the other day. He’s quite skilled.” ‘But not as experienced as I am,’ Viktor finished silently. Yuri still had a lot to perfect in his technique. 

“If you can soothe pain, couldn’t you…” Yuuri trailed off, then his eyes drifted down to the floor. 

“Help myself?” Viktor guessed quietly. “I cannot. The earth spirits blessed fairies with the gift of healing so that we could give comfort to others, not ourselves.” 

“I didn’t know that.” Yuuri seemed to be genuinely engaged in what he had to say. “Oh!” He handed the plateful of food to Viktor. “Sorry, you’re probably hungry.” 

“Thank you,” Viktor offered him a smile. He was so very grateful that Yuuri went out of his way to prepare him delicious things to eat. He gently accepted the plate and sat down on the sofa, staring at the beautiful fruit. Yuuri had painstakingly arranged it into a pinwheel shape for him. They glistened with juice, and Viktor suddenly felt very hungry. 

“Oh, let me get you a napkin.” Yuuri left, and Viktor gingerly picked up an apple slice. He brought it to his lips and took a bite. It made a snapping sound as he sunk his teeth in. The tiny cells in the apple burst in his mouth, filling it with a decadent sour-sweet flavor. It was delicious. 

Tears welled up in Viktor’s eyes at the taste, and he thought about the last time he’d had fresh fruit. His old master had fed him mushy, wormy apples; the ones that farmers sold for livestock. It had been way back when he was a child and living in the forest that he’d tasted fresh fruit. The fairies had an ancient orchard filled with all kinds of trees. The flavor of the green apple brought him back to the grove, hands sticky with juice and heart full of joy. 

Yuuri came back in with a cloth napkin and softly placed it on Viktor’s thigh. He glanced up and must have seen Viktor’s teary eyes. 

“Are you alright?” he asked, voice wavering with concern. He extended a hand as if to brush the tears away, but stopped short and withdrew it. 

“Yes.” Viktor beamed, and the movement made a droplet slide down his face. The little beads of water caught on his eyelashes like dew. He ate the rest of the apple slices, savoring every bite then began on the nectarines. They were even better than the apples had been, delightfully sugary and tangy. Each mouthful was pure bliss. He kept crying, and he kept smiling. 

He ate as much as he could (which was only a modicum) and wished that he could consume more. He didn’t even get a chance to try the pear. Instead of making himself sick, he offered the plate to Yuuri. Yuuri looked at him with a worried expression, then slowly ate the remaining slices. Viktor waited for the waterfall of tears to slow, and then dried his cheeks with his arm. 

There was a nostalgic, bittersweet feeling tugging at him. 

“I’m sorry,” he apologized softly. Yuuri gave him a comforting look. 

“Please don’t be. I cry all the time.” 

Viktor felt warm to his core and the two of them quietly laughed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long! I've been super busy with essays and such ^^" Anyway, hope you guys will stick around a little longer, haha. What did you think of this one?
> 
> Unbeta'd, so please alert me of any spelling errors you might see and I'll correct them right away!
> 
> (PS- working on something extra special for Yuri on Ice Fantasy Week!)


	10. Alis Grave Nil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri comforts Viktor after a particularly bad nightmare. The next day, Yuuri tries to make his fairy feel better by showing him the wonders of phonographs and dancing with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to hear the song that they dance to, just listen to the first section of this.  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FqZfoK25lnY&t=38s

The walls of the house were thin. Yuuri frequently stayed up late so that he could read literature, or because he couldn’t fall asleep. He would often hear heart-wrenching cries in the middle of the night from the room next to his. This had happened a few times since he had first brought Viktor home, but ever since the incident with that vile man who’d try to buy parts of Viktor, it was occuring more frequently.  
Viktor would yell things, too; terrible, pitiful things that would make Yuuri want to start crying. No. Please. I’m sorry. He felt so helpless. What should he do? Confronting Viktor might make it seem like it was his fault, and was the last thing Yuuri wanted.  
But Yuuri couldn’t bear for Viktor to be languishing in this manner. He sounded like an injured, frightened child in his night terrors. This particular night was worse than usual.  
Yuuri had been just closing his eyes to drift into dreams when he heard a muffled whimper in the darkness. His eyes shot open, heart beating faster. He heard sobbing and ragged breathing, and then a hard, painful-sounding thump as Viktor kicked something. His fairy could not go on like this. He was barely getting any good sleep, and it was evident in how he dozed off while doing ordinary tasks, how he had deep purple shadows beneath his eyes, and how he seemed disoriented and uncoordinated.  
Yuuri swung his legs out of the bed, then began picking his way across his room in the blackness of the night. His hand fumbled on the cold doorknob, and he turned it and entered the hallway. His footsteps creaked on the floorboards, and the portraits of his ancestors appeared especially eerie in the dim light slanting in from the windows.  
With a shiver, he entered Viktor’s room. There Viktor lay, blankets all rumpled and twisted. Moonlight streaming down from the skylight above, illuminating long, pale limbs and a messy silver braid. He tossed and turned, face contorted in desperation and misery. His wings beat frantically, his body jerking like a puppet on strings. He mumbled incoherently, teeth gritted.  
Yuuri rushed to his side, biting his lip. Should he wake Viktor up? Tentatively, he reached out and touched Viktor’s warm shoulder. Too engaged in his mental battle, Viktor did not perceive it.  
“Viktor, it’s alright,” Yuuri tried. Viktor groaned, features scrunched up. A tear slipped from one of his squeezed-shut eyes, trickling down his face. He abruptly flipped onto his back, pinning one of his wings under his body. Yuuri gasped. He was no fairy expert, but he knew that something was very wrong. Fairies always laid on their sides or their front, never on their backs. Their bodies automatically adjusted, even while they were sleeping, so ensure that their wings were safe. It was in that moment that he knew he had to intervene immediately.  
Yuuri gently shook Viktor, who eventually opened his bleary, watery eyes. Tears shone in them like jewels.  
“Yuuri,” he wept. He wrapped his arms around Yuuri’s neck and held him tightly. His body was trembling. To Yuuri, he seemed so, so delicate.  
“It’s alright,” Yuuri murmured. “You’re safe. I won’t let any harm come to you.” He tenderly embraced Viktor, rocking him back and forth. Tears welled up in his own eyes, overcome with emotion. The fairy’s breathing eventually steadied and his body went limp. Yuuri carefully guided him onto his front side. Viktor’s eyes were closed, his lips slightly parted.  
Yuuri watched over him for a while to be sure that he wouldn’t be plunged back into a nightmare, then slowly pulled the covers over him. He did his best not to disturb him. He tucked Viktor in, and smoothed his hand over the top of his head without thinking. Quickly, he relinquished his touch.  
His pulse felt thick and fast in his veins, and he could feel the blood pumping into his ears and fingertips. With one last glance at Viktor, lying there as serene as an angel, he slipped back to his own bed.  
~~~~~~~~~~~  
The next morning, Yuuri didn’t bring up the events that had happened during the night. He couldn’t be sure that Viktor even remembered what happened, and if he’d forgotten then Yuuri preferred it to stay that way. He didn’t want Viktor to feel guilty for anything.  
Yuuri poached two eggs and toasted two english muffins. Carefully, he spread the orange marmalade that Viktor liked over one of the muffins, and placed an egg beside it. To his relief, Viktor’s health was steadily improving. Due to dutiful attention, the infection in his finger had not returned; Yuuri assumed that the blisters on his torso were fading as well.  
Yuuri prepared his own food, then poured some sea for the pair of them. Viktor liked it with lots of sugar, the thought of which made Yuuri feel slightly ill. He preferred plain tea, while Viktor couldn’t stand the taste of it. Placing the dishes onto a tray, Yuuri carried breakfast into the dining room.  
Viktor was sitting there, kicking his feet and humming. When he heard Yuuri enter, he looked up and beamed.  
“Yuuri!” He had a way of drawing out the syllables that was so darling. Yuuri smiled at him, set the platter down on the table, and then seated himself.  
“Here,” he said, setting Viktor’s food and drink before him. “I hope you like it. We’ll have to go to the store again soon, there’s several things we need.”  
Viktor started waited until Yuuri seated himself. Following along with Yuuri, he clumsily placed his hands together.  
“Itadakimasu!” Viktor tried his best, but still stumbled near the middle. Yuuri greatly appreciated that he wanted to partake in customs with him. Viktor began to eat his egg, glowing with happiness. “It’s so delicious!” he cooed, a bit of egg yolk dribbling down his chin.  
“We have it all the time,” Yuuri pointed out, amused.  
“I know, but it’s amazing,” Viktor replied sincerely, dabbing at his face with his napkin. Yuuri felt a twinge of sadness, thinking of how even this simple meal was so much better than what Viktor had been eating before. Viktor hadn’t gone into explicit detail, but the way he acted at every meal and how malnourished he had been suggested that the food he was eating had been abhorrent.  
Yuuri started eating his own food. Feeling the unnerving sensation of being watched, he shifted his gaze and caught Viktor staring at him with his intelligent, glittering blue-green eyes. ‘Does he remember?’ he thought immediately, with a flash of panic. Both of them quickly averted their eyes.  
Viktor bit into his muffin, seeming to melt in happiness. It was awfully adorable.  
“I could teach you how to cook,” Yuuri offered, face flushing. “If you'd like.”  
“Wow!” Viktor exclaimed through a mouthful of food, then quickly reigned in his eagerness and swallowed. “I'd love that.” They shared a soft smile, looking into each other's eyes. All too soon, they came to their senses and broke eye contact to return to their meals. Yuuri’s cheeks and ears felt warm, and his hands were jittery. He hoped that Viktor would not notice.  
~~~~~~~~~~~  
Viktor kept stealing glances at Yuuri. The more time that elapsed since he’d awoke, the less certain he was over whether or not the events he remembered from the previous night actually transpired, or had been a dream. His heart fluttered like a butterfly at the thought of it. Dream or not, he had embraced Yuuri so boldly! It was highly improprietous. And yet… It had been nice to be held in Yuuri’s strong, warm embrace, even if it had only been his imagination. He smiled giddily at the thought.  
Yuuri’s behavior did not seem much out of the ordinary, so perhaps it really had been just a fragment of a dream, deeply suppressed desires rising to the surface. The thought flashed through his mind before he could filter it, and he banished it immediately. He refused to even consider the possibility.  
Viktor finished his meal and placed his hands together.  
“Gochisousama deshita!” He was aware that his accent was terrible, but he wanted to show his appreciation for the food: for the hands that prepared it, the plants the ingredients had come from, and the chicken the egg had come from. He thought fondly back on when Yuuri had explained the meanings of these sayings of his culture that he said before and after meals.  
Viktor thought back sometimes, trying to recall if there were any similar sayings or gestures in his own native culture. He was sure that there were some, but the details were blurry. It was so frustrating. So many of the memories of his clan had been faded with time. He recalled songs and dances and stories, but there were gaps that would never be filled.  
These thoughts tossed and turned in his head like churning waves of the sea as he patiently waited for Yuuri to finish eating. When he was done, Viktor gathered up the dishes and set them on the tray. He began in the direction of the sink so that he could wash the cups, saucers, plates, and utensils.  
As he turned the corner into the kitchen, he accidentally tilted the tray.  
“Vi-” Yuuri cried out in alarm, and Viktor quickly levelled out the platter again. A cup almost toppled onto the tile. Heart in his throat, he carefully continued forward. That had been a close save. He couldn’t imagine if he’d broken any of this fine china. A memory of his old master screaming at him and beating him over a vase that he’d inadvertently knocked over darted into his head like a blast from a gun. The pangs in his stomach, the stinging bruises-  
Viktor suddenly felt quite ill, and quickly placed the tray onto the counter. He placed a hand on the cold marble surface to steady himself, the world turning around him. He clutched at his stomach, the pungent taste of rancid meat suddenly graphic in his mind. The texture, the color, the stench-  
He shook his head to try and expel these thoughts, but they continued their relentless barrage. Doing his best to ignore them, he determinedly scrubbed the dishes with shaky hands. Yuuri came over to assist him in the task, and seemed to immediately discern that something was wrong. Eyes brimming with concern, he gently took a bristle brush and saucer out of Viktor’s hands and then led him to a nearby barstool.  
His warm brown eyes searched Viktor’s face. How fragile and pathetic Viktor felt, getting so upset over almost dropping a cup. He held up his hand and stared at how it trembled.  
“Viktor?” Yuuri asked anxiously. His round spectacles had slipped partially down his nose. Viktor mustered a wobbly half-smile.  
“I’m alright,” he assured. Yuuri did not seem convinced. Slowly, he reached out and took Viktor’s left hand comfortingly. He gave it a tender squeeze, and a tingling unrelated to the adrenaline that was still coursing through his system shot up his arm. With one more worried glance at Viktor, Yuuri went and finished washing the dishes. He scrubbed them until they sparkled and then carefully dried them and placed them in their homes in the cupboards.  
Viktor watched, feeling guilty that he wasn’t helping. Yuuri returned when he was done.  
“Do you feel any better?” Viktor considered this. His nausea had lessened, his hands weren’t shaking as violently, and his pulse no longer felt like lead being pumped through his veins. He nodded, and Yuuri gave him a relieved smile before shyly ducking his eyes away. “Come with me, I’d like to show you something.”  
Viktor stood, curious. His strength was returning to him. He followed Yuuri past down the hall and past both of their bedrooms. They stopped in front of the supply closet at the end of the corridor. Well, more of a supply room, really. It smelled of must and was full of old furniture and boxes, covered with sheets. Yuuri appeared to be thinking, as if trying to remember something. It was fascinating to watch him; one could almost see his mind working. He suddenly spun around and pushed aside a chair. A cloud of dust floated up, and he sneezed.  
He made this cute little scrunched-up face, and Viktor giggled. He quickly pressed his right hand to his mouth without thinking, awkwardly only covering part of it without his index finger. Yuuri shot a small smile back at him. He stepped back, revealing a large box with a horn affixed to the top of it. Viktor’s lips formed an ‘o.’ A gramophone? Inquisitive, he took a step forward.  
“I remember my aunt and uncle receiving this a few years back, before they moved. I don’t believe they used it very much. They never did like the novelty of new-fangled devices.” Viktor tried to keep down his excitement. “There’s a box of records somewhere around here, I thought we might…?” Yuuri gave him a sheepish look, rubbing the back of his neck. “I know it’s probably a foolish idea, but I was just thinking that it might help you to sleep better?”  
Viktor was speechless. His first thought was how kind and considerate Yuuri was. That was as brief and fleeting as the dying rays of light at sunset. Apprehension over whether his restless nights had been disturbing Yuuri overcame him. ‘So did Yuuri actually come into my room last night?’ he thought with horror. Yuuri must have seen the look on his face.  
“Viktor?” he asked carefully. His warm chocolatey eyes were brimming with compassion. “I don’t want you to suffer from nightmares anymore,” he said quietly.  
Viktor’s cheeks suddenly felt warm, and he again felt that strange feeling: the one that was almost like happiness, but more melty inside. Yuuri got onto his knees to examine a dusty crate. Viktor peeked over his shoulder curiously, head tilted, and held his hair back so that it didn’t fall in the way.  
“There’s some good ones here,” Yuuri mused to himself, shuffling through the black discs with grooves on them. He hefted up the gramophone, with its large bronze-colored horn opening up like a flower. Viktor could see his muscles straining under his long-sleeved navy blue jinbei. Guilt seeped into Viktor’s nerves. Shouldn’t he be the one carrying it for him?  
“I’ve got it,” Yuuri said quickly. He placed the phonograph down on the edge of the open area in the middle of the storage room. “I thought it would be easier to try it out like this,” Yuuri explained. “Which disc would you like to hear first?”  
Panic flashed through Viktor, terrified at the prospect of not being able to read the labels. But then Yuuri dragged the box out and beside the gramophone.  
“Here’s Swan Lake…” He held up the record so that Viktor could see. It looked exactly the same as all the others to him. “It’s from a ballet about a girl who has been enchanted to be a swan during the day.”  
A ballet… Viktor had never been to one of those before. He pictured figures twirling about to music. Humans, ones that were nearly as graceful and lithe as fairies from what he’d heard.  
“We should listen to that one!” he blurted out enthusiastically before he could stop himself. Once more, his hand flew to cover his mouth. “I’m sorry.”  
“No, no, it’s alright.” Yuuri looked up at him with those gentle eyes, and Viktor felt his light touch brushing against his elbow. The contact sent a shiver down his spine and his heart aflutter. Yuuri’s hand slipped away, and he turned back to position the record on the gramophone.  
“Look, it’s a Victor phonograph,” he pointed out with a little smile. It was infectious, and Viktor became aware that he was also smiling. It was so nice for Yuuri to tell him that; otherwise he would never have known. Viktor watched with great intrigue as Yuuri began turning a handle on the side of the base of the gramophone. He cranked it many times, then stopped and let go.  
The disc started to spin, and Viktor observed in amazement. There had been gramophones at parties that he’d played harp at before, but he’d never been so close to one before. Yuuri carefully lowered the arm and set the needle into the groove. There were strange, garbled notes for a moment, and then beautiful, clear tones rang out through the air. Viktor’s lips parted, eyes wide. How did it work? It was almost like magic.  
Yuuri straightened up and turned to face him. Viktor grinned.  
“It’s amazing!”he exclaimed. Yuuri returned the smile, then blinked and looked off into a corner of the room. He pulled his gaze back, then slowly extended a hand with the palm up.  
“Dance with me?”  
Viktor’s heartbeat raced like a galloping horse, and he found himself searching Yuuri’s face. Could this me some sort of trick to humiliate him? But Yuuri’s eyes were as amiable and earnest as ever, and Viktor felt bad for doubting him so quickly. He swallowed, and then did something that he never would have even considered a few months ago. He placed his left hand in Yuuri Katsuki’s right one.  
Yuuri interlocked their fingers, and Viktor found himself surprised at the boldness of the gesture. His breath caught in his throat. It scared him for a moment, but he didn’t move away. It was warm and firm and real- and trembling. Yuuri was just as nervous as he was. This was somehow relaxing, and when the pair made eye contact they both released shaky laughs.  
Yuuri tenderly took Viktor’s other hand, not lacing their fingers together but instead holding gently with his thumb on Viktor’s palm and his other fingers delicately wrapped around. Even though the amputation site was healing now, Yuuri was still being ginger so as not to cause any pain. The simple gesture was very touching in Viktor’s opinion.  
They stepped in time to the music, Viktor afraid that his lack of expertise at human dancing would show. But they didn’t seem to be doing a particular dance, only feeling the music. Viktor was too transfixed by Yuuri’s eyes to pay proper attention to where he was moving his feet. Yuuri let go of Viktor’s right hand and delicately twirled him around. Viktor’s white nightgown swirled, lace swishing.  
With each spin, Viktor waited until the very last second before whipping his head around, so that he could look at Yuuri as long as possible. It was if he was mesmerized, unable to look away. The two of them swayed about the room, and Viktor felt like he was gliding. Like a ballerina, or maybe a swan. He beamed, invigorated as the orchestra swelled and picked up their tempo. He felt so free, his soul as light as a feather and his heart not weighing him down like a burden. In that moment, he felt so unbelievably happy.  
The song had reached its peak, now showing the telltale signs of being on its way to its conclusion. Viktor spun around Yuuri, laughing. They moved closer and farther apart to the music, exchanging both long and fleeting touches. Yuuri placed a hand on Viktor’s hip and Viktor wrapped an arm around his neck and was dipped low. The movement ended in a flourish.  
They both stared at each other, breathing heavily. Both of them shared twin rapturous grins. But Viktor saw a glint out of the corner of his eye and glanced over to see an antique, dusty mirror that was half-covered with a ghostly sheet. He saw himself reflected in it.  
A skinny, sickly fairy with a dishevelled braid brushing against the floor, a naively happy expression, a face flushed with exertion, and sweat shining on his forehead in the dim light. The frilly nightgown, unsuited to touch his filthy body, with holes freshly added to the back to crudely slide his large wings through. Him. A disgusting slave. Clinging to his master in such a way. The smile melted away. What on earth was he doing?  
Irrational terror and alarm suddenly threatened to suffocate him, all of his exuberance fleeing in an instant. His eyes widened and he slipped out of Yuuri’s touch in a panic. He dashed out of the room and down the hall. Heart pounding, he entered his room and closed the door behind him. He folded his wings and sank back against it before sliding down to the floor. There was an awful ache in his heart beneath the fright, like it was being squeezed by a constricting snake.  
Feeling hollow, he stared blankly at the ornate wallpaper on the other side of the room. The vines and flowers printed onto it were as complicated and intertwined as his thoughts and feelings. What was wrong with him?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry it's taken me so long to update ^^" I haven't given up, I swear! I'm just so busy with classes, and feeling not that confident... Anyway, I hope you like this <3 This chapter was difficult for me to write, but hopefully a new chapter should be up after less of a time gap, haha. A big thanks to everyone who has stuck with me, I really appreciate it.  
> I haven't been able to find a beta yet, so just let me know if you'd be interested.  
> Please take the time to comment, I would be so happy.


	11. Callithrix

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Viktor slowly opens up to Yuuri more and trusts him to do something with a lot of meaning for him.

With nerves twisting and guilt pooling inside of him, Viktor heard footsteps approaching down the hall. The soft knock on the door caused his heart to skip a beat, even though it was expected. 

“Viktor?” 

Viktor inhaled and exhaled slowly, then put on his best everything-is-okay face. 

“Yes?” he called out brightly. 

“May I… May I come in?” 

Viktor hesitated. 

“Yes,” he replied, but it came out quieter than he'd intended. He stood on shaky legs and moved out of the way so that Yuuri could enter. 

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to frighten you before.” Yuuri seemed unable to make eye contact. Viktor attempted a smile. 

“Oh, don't worry. I'm alright,” he responded with strained cheerfulness. 

Yuuri lifted his eyes, which were swimming with concern. “Viktor, please tell me the truth.” 

Viktor's facade crumbled. After all the kindness that Yuuri had shown him, why was it still such a struggle to show how he really felt? 

“It was not my place to do that with you,” Viktor said simply. 

Yuuri looked at him for a long while, and Viktor wondered what he had said wrong. Yuuri appeared to be deeply upset, with his brows scrunched together and his mouth slightly open. 

“Viktor…” His voice reminded Viktor of a piece of lemon candy breaking down the middle. “I wouldn't have asked you to dance with me if I wasn't alright with it. I see you as an equal.” His eyes were glistening, pleading. “I wish you could as well.” 

Viktor was speechless. He felt so foolish for having run off like he did. He considered what Yuuri had just told him. It went against everything that had been drilled into him for the past decade and a half. Just a fairy. He was disgusting, he was lesser. 

“I cannot,” he replied lightly. Yuuri's face fell, and his eyes dropped to the floor. “However,” he continued, “I will try.” ‘For you,’ he added silently. For Yuuri's sake, he vowed to attempt to see himself as worth anything; it would certainly be an arduous undertaking. He could not comprehend how Yuuri thought so highly of him. 

Yuuri smiled hopefully.

“I'm so glad.” He turned to leave, then stopped. “Viktor…” He looked as if he was on the verge of saying something, but then closed his mouth as if he'd thought better of it. Viktor's heart thudded in his chest; could it have to do with the events that had happened (or possibly did not happen) the night before? Viktor was nearly certain that that was the reason. They met eyes, and then he was sure. Without a word, they made a silent agreement not to speak of it. 

“Would… Would you like me to bring the phonograph in here?” Yuuri asked. They both knew that that was not what he'd originally intended to say. Viktor did not feel like he deserved it, but… His eyes crinkled in happiness. 

“That would be wonderful.” 

Yuuri smiled and nodded, then left. Viktor sprang up to flutter after him and help with the hauling as best he could. (As it turned out, this was not very much.) 

Viktor woke up from his afternoon nap later that day, with the sunlight shining down through the skylight above him. He discovered that the box of records had been brought into his room. He knelt in front of them, wings perked curiously.

Yuuri had drawn pictures in black ink on the light labels. It was so thoughtful of him to do that… His heart soared as he admired the carefully drawn images of swans and apple trees and stars.

~~~~~~~~~~~

With the music, Viktor was improving his sleeping habits. The soothing notes seemed to seep into his dreams and calm him. He still had the occasional nightmare, but no more than before Seamus the merchant had threatened him. However, without the fog of sleep deprivation clouding his senses, Viktor’s thoughts were clearer and usually turned to Chris. 

Anxious, Yuuri fretted about his decrease in appetite. With his usual mask on, Viktor told him that he just wasn’t as hungry. The truth of the matter was that he felt awful eating delicious, fresh meals while Chris was languishing in a basement with barely enough to survive. It made him sick to his stomach. He knew the only way to save him was to ask Yuuri for help, but he just couldn’t do it. He wanted to so desperately, but the thought of asking Yuuri to spend so much money for him put a pit in his belly. 

Yuuri had already done so much for him, he didn’t think he was capable of asking for more. 

But as Viktor watched his flowers and sang them little songs, or listened to music and imagined what the ballet looked like, or looked through books to see their pictures and tried to picture the stories they contained, he thought about how much Chris would love doing these things with him. How much his kind, dear friend deserved to have a better life. 

Viktor was also concerned that his old master was working Chris twice as hard now that he was gone. He was barely getting by before, but with two times the work… 

Yuuri had noticed Viktor’s unusual silence and apathy, and was starting to worry about his health. 

“Should I phone Doctor Feltsman and have him come to look you over?” Yuuri would ask nervously. Viktor always politely declined. That grouchy (albeit kind) old man and his bratty assistant were the last things he needed. “Alright, just let me know if there’s anything you need or would like to talk about. Please?” Viktor would dip his head and agree, guilt worming through his belly. 

He needed Chris. But everytime he was about to ask Yuuri for help, he couldn’t force the words out. He had said that he would try to see himself as an equal to Yuuri, but it was incredibly difficult. It flew in the face of everything he’d been brutally taught for so long. With a little, sad smile, Viktor finished watering his plants. Some of the late bloomers were budding, about to unfurl their petals and greet the world. He tapped each of the pots in affection, then turned and spread out his arms to feel the sunlight from the window above warming his skin. 

With a yawn, he opened his wings and flew up to the perch that Yuuri had recently installed. He felt bad that Yuuri had gone to the trouble for him, but greatly appreciated the gesture. He hoped that Yuuri hadn’t spent too much money on it. The perch was a ledge high up and securely fastened to the wall like a shelf. Lying on it, he could nearly imagine that he was reclining on the branch of a tree from his youth. 

Fairies were supposed to take light naps, and slept up in trees during the day to protect from predators. (At night, they all slept together.) It was so nice to be able to recreate an experience Viktor never thought he would have again. 

Viktor rested on his front side, cheek pressed against the smooth wood. One arm dangled off the edge. He closed his eyes, and quickly fell asleep. His dream was filled with Chris and carried a note of sorrowful desperation. 

~~~~~~~~~~~

Yuuri peeked into his fairy’s room to make sure that he was alright. Viktor wasn't on the sofa or the bed, and he wasn't dancing or looking at books or tending to his plants either. Yuuri's eyes were drawn upwards, and he spotted a long, pale limb and tendrils of silver hair hanging over the edge of Viktor's perch. 

He couldn't help but smile. He was glad that Viktor liked the perch; he'd been worried at first. It did make him anxious to see him so high up, however. What if he had a nightmare and fell down? He tried not to think about it. 

While Viktor had been sleeping more as of late, he seemed quieter than usual. Sadder. Yuuri wished that Viktor would tell him what was wrong. He'd do anything in his power to make him happy. He wanted Viktor to feel more comfortable about having open communication between them, but he knew that they still had a long way to go. Yuuri himself had a hard time expressing his thoughts and feelings properly.

Viktor stretched and and made a yawning sound, and Yuuri froze. His heart beating heavy and fast, and he backed away silently. He didn't want Viktor to realize that he had been being watched. With butterflies fluttering in his stomach and heart rate still elevated, he waited ten seconds and then walked to the doorway again. 

“Yuuri!” Viktor called brightly, peeping his head over the edge. A thick sheaf of hair slipped over his shoulder, and he quickly pushed it back. Yuuri was sure that his cheeks were tinged pink. 

“Viktor…” 

Viktor smiled. “I'm so glad to see you!” 

Yuuri laughed. “But you see me all the time.” 

“I know that.” Viktor swung his legs over the side and hopped off of the platform. Yuuri's heart automatically panicked for a second, but Viktor fluttered down safely and alighted on the carpet gracefully. His flowing pink muslin layers floated around him as he descended as if he weighed nothing. He seemed to glow radiantly in the afternoon light, ethereal and impossibly lovely. Yuuri's throat went dry, and he realized his mouth had opened. 

Viktor ran a hand through that long, long princess hair, encountering some loose tangles. He gently tapped his left index finger against his lips. 

“I forgot to braid my hair before I fell asleep, it seems,” he mused absentmindedly. 

“Could I brush your hair for you?” Yuuri exclaimed before he could think about what he was saying. Even as the words were tumbling from his lips, he felt blood rush to his face. “Ah- I mean, sorry, never mind,” he excused, flustered. He waved his hands nervously. “I don't want you to be uncomfortable or anything, I'm sorry I suggested it,” he stammered out. 

He dared to meet Viktor's eyes, afraid that he would find him scared or incredulous. Instead, he was met by a slightly amused expression. Viktor hesitated a second, as if thinking over it. 

“Alright,” he said simply. “As long as you don't pull hard, okay?” He cocked his head and closed his eyes at the last word. Yuuri gulped, heart racing. 

Viktor elegantly stepped over to the dresser and picked up his brush. Yuuri followed, heart in his throat and feeling like he was under a trance. Viktor sat down on his canopy bed, legs crossed. Yuuri carefully seated himself behind him, and Viktor slowly pulled his waterfall of silver locks over his shoulder. For a moment Yuuri remembered the last time he’d been on this bed, and blushed. 

Viktor folded his wings, and handed Yuuri the brush. Yuuri took it, admiring its silver plating and engraved rose and ivy designs around the edges. On the back was an oval-shaped painting of a forest landscape, with a deer, a river and lush peridot moss. 

Yuuri thought about pushing up his sleeves, but then quickly decided not to. Tentatively, he reached out and touched Viktor’s hair. It almost didn’t seem like this was happening, as if he was in a vivid dream or fantasy; the hair was so, so soft. The bulk of the mane was thick, but the individual strands were incredibly fine. Viktor’s hair spilled everywhere, pooling in the space between them and over the thighs of Yuuri’s kneeling legs. 

There was so much of it; Yuuri gently took a small section in his hand and marvelled silently at its glossiness as he cautiously began to work the bristles of the brush through the ends. There weren’t many knots in the first place, and the ones that were there slipped out easily. Yuuri was so captivated by the gossamer tresses that he failed to notice how tensed up Viktor’s shoulders were. He felt immediate guilt, and pulled his hands away. 

“Viktor? I can… I can stop if you want.” 

“No, I do.” Viktor’s muscles relaxed slightly. “I’m simply accustomed to having to be protective of my hair,” he explained quietly. 

“Oh,” Yuuri said, sounding like the epitome of intelligence. His cheeks felt aflame. Clearly this meant something deeply significant to Viktor, and he felt honored to be trusted with the task. As he ran the brush through the shining mass of hair, the bristles slid through as if the strands were liquid silver. A gleaming river bathed in moonlight. 

As he worked his way higher, the strokes became long, smooth, and continuous. He was extremely careful not to touch Viktor’s wings; he didn’t want to cause any damage. Viktor tilted his head back as Yuuri tenderly moved the brush over the top of his head. His eyes were closed, and he was nearly purring. He let out a contented sigh, although it carried a note of melancholy and wistfulness. 

Because of the hair’s length, it was impossible to do one brushstroke from the top to the bottom. Instead it took another arm movement to get all the way to the ends, as if Yuuri was combing out skeins of silk. In the silence between them, the only thing to fill it was their steady breathing and the brushstroke, which sounded like wind rustling the leaves of the trees or like waves lapping against the sand. 

Yuuri awkwardly scooted back and spread out the hair so that it wasn’t folded over itself in any places. Again, he marvelled at the length. The swathes of hair were like a fine argent carpet covering the quilted blanket. Mesmerized, Yuuri sat the brush aside and softly ran his fingers through. He could smell the faint scent of lavender, was that weird of him to notice? His cheeks burned. Oh, he was so strange. 

He grasped a handful of hair and slowly let it slip from his hand and fall back into a straight curtain. He was still in disbelief that this was actually happening. He had pictured doing this more times than he would ever admit, but nothing came remotely close to the real thing. 

“Christophe used to brush and play with my hair…” Viktor said out of the blue, voice quiet and sad. Yuuri’s hands stilled, and he racked his brain trying to recall if he’d ever heard Viktor mention a “Christophe” before. 

“Christophe?” There was a pregnant pause. 

“He was my fellow slave,” Viktor elaborated, voice laden with melancholy and woe. 

Yuuri’s blood ran cold. 

“Fellow slave?” he echoed, mind racing. ‘Then…’ Anxiety constricted in his gut. 

“Yes, under Augustus Winthrop.” Viktor’s voice was trembling. “He... He was the only reason I kept on living.” 

Yuuri was frozen in place. 

“Is he…?” He couldn’t bring himself to ask what he was thinking. 

“I pray he’s alright. I don’t… I don’t know.” Viktor sounded so broken. He turned to face Yuuri and swallowed delicately. On his features was the same somber, worried expression he’d been wearing so often lately. 

Realization dawned on Yuuri that he had been concerned for his friend, and that's why he'd been acting so unusual. It must have been very hard to open up about it. 

“Oh Viktor, I wish… I wish you’d told me sooner.” The notion that another fairy was living in the same squalor that Viktor had endured was heartbreaking. 

Viktor hung his head. He suddenly looked guilty and disappointed in himself, and Yuuri quickly intervened. 

“Viktor…” His heart felt like a pillow overstuffed and bursting at the seams with empathy and something else, something deeper. “It’s alright. You didn’t do anything wrong. I’ll… I’ll try to fix this, alright?” He felt determination rising up inside of him. “I’ll see if I can find Mr. Winthrop’s number.” He didn’t miss how Viktor shrank back a little when he heard the name. 

Yuuri climbed off of the bed then slowly reached out and brushed his knuckles against Viktor’s cheek. His fairy’s lashes fluttered shut and he closed his eyes. He leaned slightly in to Yuuri’s touch. 

“Thank you so much, Yuuri.” 

This warmed Yuuri’s core like metal within a forge, glowing bright and malleable. Viktor smiled hopefully, and Yuuri returned it. He prayed that this mission would be successful, but he didn’t want to get too optimistic. He silently wished that Viktor’s friend was safe, then tenderly tucked a lock of silver hair behind his pointed ear. 

“I’ll ask around after dinner, alright? I’m going to go and make you something delicious to eat.” Before he left the room, Yuuri glanced back a final time to see Viktor surrounded by his own hair and with a grim expression on his face. His lips were pulled into a thin, resolved smile, but it was distant somehow. 

It was a poignant image, and stuck with Yuuri all throughout his preparation of dinner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope this was alright! With this, we are launched into a new arc. Please leave a comment if you liked it~  
> Big thanks to Izzy for help with characterization, and thank you to fleurrose for being a sweetheart beta <3


	12. Mea Culpa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri reaches out to Viktor's old master in hopes of buying Christophe, while Viktor waits nearby nervously.

Dinner was a quiet affair. Yuuri had baked sweet rolls and cooked some savory miso soup, but neither of them seemed to be very hungry, just pushing their food around. Yuuri’s leg bounced anxiously, and his stomach was a queasy mess. What if they called Augustus only to find out that Christophe had been sold? Or worse… Yuuri did not want to think about it too much. Viktor would be devastated, he was certain about that. 

The poor fairy was just starting to be more sure of himself, and Yuuri couldn’t bear it if he started reverting back to how he was before. Yuuri, submersed in his thoughts, realized that he hadn’t heard the clinking of a spoon in a while. The atmosphere of the room was heavy and thick, almost stifling. 

Yuuri lifted his gaze and met Viktor’s. Those aquamarine eyes carried fear in them, although Viktor’s face was set in resolve and a touch of hope. Yuuri put his hands together out of tradition and habit. 

“Gochisousama deshita.” Viktor followed as well. His pronunciation was improving every day. Yuuri took in a vast breath and then expelled it as he stood. “I am going to find out about your friend’s whereabouts,” he said, determined. 

“I just want to know that he’s okay, if nothing else,” Viktor replied, sad and quiet. Yuuri’s heart suddenly felt too tight in his chest, like it was expanding and trying to push up into his throat. Viktor stood without a sound and began to clear the dishes. He gave Yuuri a soft, downcast smile, and then moved towards the kitchen while bearing a tray of half-eaten dishes. Yuuri felt just awful about wasting good food, but he didn’t want Viktor or himself to feel sick by eating when they didn’t feel up for it. 

Yuuri still had a pot of leftover soup and almost a whole loaf of sweet milk bread leftover. Oh well, the soup could be kept in the ice box and warmed up again tomorrow, and they could eat the bread as a snack or with tea. He watched Viktor’s retreating back until he turned the corner, abundant hair swishing around him like a silk cape. 

With a sigh of resoled determination, Yuuri crossed the room to the small table where the telephone resided. He picked up the earpiece and tried his best to prepare himself to talk to Phichit. He dialled the operator, and as she switched him over he recalled, with a twist of mortification, that he had not told his friend that Viktor was living with him. He swallowed nervously, and heard someone answer the call on the other end. 

“Hello?” Phichit chirped cheerfully. 

“Um…” Yuuri bit his lip. “Good evening Phichit.” As he had expected, his friend launched into a rapid-fire series of greetings and questions. Yuuri pulled the phone away from his ear for a few moments, still hearing Phichit’s volleys of “How have you been”s and “Why have you not called”s and “I missed you”s. Yuuri felt guilty for not contacting Phichit in so long… 

“I’ve been fine. It’s been busy around here,” Yuuri replied. Phichit was silent for a second, as if waiting in anticipation for Yuuri to elaborate. 

“And? What have you been doing all this time?” 

“A-ha,” Yuuri laughed awkwardly. “I’ve-” He spotted movement from the corner of his vision and turned his head to see Viktor traversing the dining room. The airy, rosy layers of transparent fabric floated around him as he walked. “Viktor-” The vision in pink stopped and looked at him. When their eyes met, his heart skipped a beat. Viktor cocked his head to one side, sending his hair spilling off his shoulder and down his back. 

“Viktor? Who’s that? You’re not making any sense!” Phichit’s voice carried through, but it seemed so distant, like he was in another room. Viktor came to Yuuri, concern flickering in his eyes. Yuuri reached out and gave the fairy’s left hand a comforting squeeze. Viktor smiled gratefully, and then Yuuri relinquished his touch. Viktor lingered for a moment before letting his fingers fall, then turned and drifted out of the room. 

“Yuuri? What’s going on? Are you still there?” 

“Huh?” Yuuri blinked, heart still aflutter. “Oh yes, sorry.” He diverted his attention away from the doorway where Viktor had just vanished through. 

Phichit laughed. 

“You're acting so strange.” 

“Sorry, I just…” Yuuri trailed off, not knowing where to begin his explanation. “I don't even know where to start,” he explained sheepishly. 

“Start with who this ‘Viktor’ guy is!” Phichit replied with eager impatience. 

“Ah, okay…” Yuuri gulped. “Do you remember the fairy that I was looking for?” 

“Yes?” Phichit asked, as if he was on the edge of his seat. 

“Well… I found him and bought him. He lives with me now.” 

“What???” 

Yuuri laughed nervously, face growing hot and neck feeling prickly. Oh, his friend probably thought he was a pervert or something now. 

“Yuuuuuri,” Phichit whined. “You never tell me anything!” 

“I’m sorry, I just forget.” 

“Hmph,” Phichit grumbled. Yuuri could almost see Phichit’s playful pout. There was a moment of silence. “Well?” Phichit prodded. 

“Oh, I-” Yuuri took in a deep breath, then exhaled. “Viktor is so amazing and kind. We’ve been spending a lot of time together.” 

“Hmm,” Phichit said with a suggestive air. 

“No!” Yuuri squeaked. “Not in that way.” Oh stars, he could die of shame. Phichit laughed, voice light with mirth. 

“I know. I’m sorry, please continue.” 

“He’s been so sad lately, and he finally told me what is wrong. A close friend of his is still owned by Augustus Winthrop.” 

Phichit gasped at this. 

“Oh my goodness, that man?” 

Yuuri’s blood turned cold in his veins. 

“Yes.” He gripped the telephone more tightly, heart in his throat. 

“There have been… rumors. Most nobles with a bone of sympathy in their body don’t rent fairies from him anymore.” 

Yuuri swallowed dryly. 

“Why?” he asked with a terrible twist in his belly. He had a pretty good idea that people had heard about how Augustus treated his slaves. 

“Now, I’m not one to gossip, but…” Phichit lowered his voice. “I heard from Lady Braebrook that Augustus feeds his slaves rotten meat as punishment and keeps them locked in his basement.” 

Tears welled up in Yuuri’s eyes as he thought about his poor Viktor. He knew that he’d been treated awfully, but hearing some of the abusive acts he had undergone said so blatantly was difficult to hear. “I’ve heard all sorts of other things too, but it’s hard to tell what’s truth and what’s not.” Anger and heartbreak bubbled up within Yuuri as stark images of Viktor when he'd first been bought flashed in his mind. The emaciated frame, the fearful eyes, the infected finger, the pus-filled blisters peppering his chest… 

“I even heard that Augustus cut off one of his slaves’ fingers and sold him to a whorehouse just for looking too long at a party guest.”

Yuuri gasped sharply, and a violet tsunami of horror engulfed him. His vision began to swim, and he steadied himself with a hand on the table. That meant… 

“Yuuri?” Phichit asked, concerned. Yuuri choked back a sob, trying not to break down into tears. 

“Do you have Augustus’ number?” he asked, struggling to remain in control and doing his best to sound like he was fine. 

“Oh, yes! Wait a minute, I have it written in my contact book.” Yuuri heard the rustling of papers on Phichit’s end of the call. It seemed like this wasn’t real life. Like his surroundings were distant. It just couldn’t be true. It hadn’t fully sunk in yet. That… that… “Ah! Here it is.” 

“Oh! Wait a second, please.” A tear disobeyed his wishes and escaped from his eye. Yuuri brushed it away and scrambled in the side-table’s drawer for a scrap of paper and a pen. His heart was racing wildly and his hands were trembling. Phichit read the string of digits, and Yuuri scribbled them down. 

“Thank you.” The words dropped from Yuuri’s lips, but he barely registered that he was the one saying them. 

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Phichit asked. 

“Yes,” Yuuri replied weakly, trying his best to sound convincing. 

“Alright… Well then, goodbye!” 

“Goodbye,” Yuuri responded in a strained voice. The very moment the call ended, Yuuri fumbled the receiver back onto the hook and collapsed into a chair. His mind was reeling, and his stomach was queasy. He clutched at his belly, tears spilling over like a glass filled too full. It was his fault. It had been him that Viktor had been looking at during the party. He was the one to blame for Viktor’s amputated finger and him being nearly subjected to life in a brothel. His sweet, beautiful Viktor. He removed his steamed-up glasses and set them with a clatter onto the table.

Yuuri wept in a way that made his eyes ache and his chest ache even more. Silent, racking sobs shook his entire body, and his ragged breaths hurt as they were roughly taken in and expelled from his lungs. Snot and salty tears dripped down his face, and his mouth was open and twisted in lamentation. His breaths were too loud in the soundless dining room. They echoed off of the walls and bounced back to Yuuri to remind him anew of the terrible events that he had set into motion. 

Suddenly, he felt a light touch against his shoulder. He looked up and saw Viktor bathed in the light from the window, his pure aquamarine eyes glimmering with worry. Yuuri started to crying harder, pitiful sobs squeezing out of his frame in huffs. His sore eyes flitted to Viktor’s slender right hand and his missing index finger. 

“What’s wrong?” Viktor asked timidly, looking at a loss as to what he should do. He tentatively searched Yuuri’s eyes, although Yuuri couldn’t bare to meet them. 

“I-” He tried to breathe regularly, but to no avail. “I-It’s m-my fault,” he stammered out. 

“What is?” Viktor asked, blinking his jewel eyes. 

“Your-” Yuuri inhaled shakily. “Your finger.” Somehow, saying it out loud made him feel worse. He dared a glance, and caught sight of Viktor’s rueful half-smile through the blur of tears. 

“It was my fault. It was improper for me to look at a guest so long in that way.” 

“No!” Yuuri blurted out, louder than he had intended. His eyebrows scrunched up as tears kept flowing down his face. He thought about all of the appalling things that Viktor had endured because of him. The terror he must have felt as his virginity was auctioned off…

“Viktor…” Yuuri whispered. “I am so sorry.” His guilt was consuming him like an unextinguishable flame. 

“Yuuri.” Viktor sounded more serious than ever before. He gently pressed a hand against Yuuri's wet cheek. Yuuri met his eyes, which were concerned and a bit helpless. “I'm not… I'm not sure what to say,” he admitted. “But,” he added, “If I hadn't been sold to that brothel, then I would not be here. Correct?”

Yuuri nodded. 

“So maybe…” Viktor gave a sad smile. “Maybe it ended up being a good thing. Because I can be here with you.” 

Yuuri drew in a jerky breath. 

“I'm glad you're here with me,” he said, offering a wavering smile. Viktor rubbed his cheekbone with his thumb. He seemed to realize what he was doing, and his hand fell. Yuuri felt the blood rush to his face, and he wondered if it was even visible under the red splotches he no doubt had acquired from crying. 

“Thank you,” he murmured, and Viktor dipped his head. Yuuri sniffled and wiped away tears. He still felt that it was his fault, but Viktor's words made him feel a little better. Viktor's line of vision moved over to the side, and Yuuri followed where he was looking. 

His gaze landed on the scrap of paper with numbers hastily written on it. An aura of foreboding blanketed the room. Hand trembling slightly, Yuuri reached out and picked up the slip.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Viktor watched apprehensively as Yuuri turned the rotary dial to connect with operator. He was still worried for him, praying that he didn’t still feel guilty. There was no way that Yuuri could have known even such an act as making eye contact with a human guest for too long could result in such a punishment. It really was Viktor’s own fault… He had been clearly instructed not to interact with the partygoers unless they directly ordered him to do something. 

Viktor thought back to his nights strumming the harp until he had blisters on his fingers and smiling until his cheeks ached. Maybe he’d been less of a burden then. More useful. Although he did chores for Yuuri around the house, he still felt like he didn’t deserve a thing that Yuuri so generously bestowed upon him. He tried so hard to shake the mindset away, but it was exceedingly difficult. 

Viktor suddenly heard something that made his body turn as rigid as a corpse. That rough, sickeningly familiar voice. It seeped into his bones like venom and he wanted it out, out, out of his system. The last time he’d heard that voice, it had been jeering at him as he stared horrified at the stump where his finger used to be, now bleeding profusely. As a man dragged him away, his old master had said one last thing to him. 

“Since you seem to lust after humans so much, the brothel will be like a dream come true.” That sentence, harsh and cruel, echoed back into Viktor’s mind as if it had just been said to him. Goosebumps popped up all over Viktor’s ghostly pale skin. Yuuri was speaking to Augustus in a measured, careful tone that barely concealed his fury and animosity. 

“I was wondering if you would be willing to negotiate for the sale of your slave, Christophe? I saw him perform at an event recently and I was impressed by his skill.” 

A crackly, humorless laugh was heard from the other side of the call. Panic rolled through Viktor. 

“I can’t sell that one, it’s the only one that I have left.” 

Viktor felt his loathing coil up in his belly like a snake preparing to strike. He despised how quickly his heart was beating out of fear. Yuuri looked over with worry in his eyes. He reached out to touch him, but Viktor flinched away as an reflex, anticipating punishment. Hurt and concern flashed in Yuuri’s eyes, and he quickly pulled his hand back to his chest. 

Queasy guilt pooled in Viktor’s belly for his instinctual action, but he wasn’t sure how to remedy what he had done. He offered a silent apology to Yuuri. Yuuri sighed, collecting himself once more. 

“Surely you’d be open to striking a deal? Money is no object.” 

An ominous quiet followed.   
“When did you say you saw my fairy again?” 

Viktor saw Yuuri swallow, saw his muscles tense up. 

“A few weeks ago, I believe.” His tone had an edge of uncertainty. 

“I have not rented him out in months,” Augustus replied coldly. He was certainly suspicious. 

Yuuri laughed nervously. 

“I could be wrong, how time does fly by-” 

“Why do you really want the fairy?” Augustus asked with a bite of menace, sharp like a shovel being driven into the earth. Yuuri’s eyes widened slightly, and Viktor shivered in fear. 

“As I said before, I want him so that he can perform for me.” 

“Perform what?” 

Viktor hastily mouthed “dance” and moved his fingers to imitate graceful legs.

“I want to see him dance,” Yuuri explained a little too quickly. 

“Interesting.” 

With bated breath, the pair of them waited to see if their efforts had been enough to convince Augustus. Would Augustus’ love of money persuade him to sell Chris?

“Do you want to know what I think?” he continued sharply. 

“Wh-what do you think?” 

Viktor could hear his heartbeat as the blood pumped thickly in his ears. 

“I think that you're the man that bought Viktor. I heard about what happened. Word gets around, you see.” 

Viktor was paralyzed in fright. 

“Who is Viktor?” Yuuri tried, but the waver in his voice betrayed him. 

Augustus let out a “hm.” 

“Well, you can tell that useless creature that I actually sold his precious Christophe not long after I got rid of him. People weren’t renting him out anymore, and I assumed that it was due to the fact that his performance was becoming lackluster. He cost more to take care of than he was worth.” 

Stinging tears bit the corners of Viktor’s eyes. The truth that had just been revealed had not truly sunk in yet. Christophe, the one who had kept him sane all of those years. The one who gave him comfort, who he confided in. His dear friend, sold- 

“Who- Who did you sell him to?” Yuuri questioned, face pale and hand gripping the receiver tightly. The other was curled into a fist at his side. 

“I- I,” Augustus mocked derisively. “I’m not telling you. If you want the fairy that badly, seek him out yourself.” His tone held callous amusement. There was a click, and then Yuuri slowly hung up the phone. 

Viktor felt so hollow, so hopeless. What if he never saw Christophe again? His wings drooped as if they had weights attached to them, and he looked blankly ahead. He shouldn’t have allowed the seed of hope to sprout. Christophe could be anywhere right now. He could be in another country. He could be dead. 

Yuuri stepped closer, and again Viktor instinctively shrunk back in the chair with the memory of his old master fresh in his mind. 

“Viktor,” Yuuri said. Softly. Sadly. Viktor inhaled and exhaled, trying to relax his muscles. Yuuri carefully outstretched his arms. 

Viktor stared at him for a moment, but then found himself standing up and embracing Yuuri. Yuuri was so warm and solid and real in his arms. He smelled like sweet rolls, and his hair was soft as it tickled against his cheek and chin. Viktor gasped lightly when he felt strong arms encircle his waist and hold him tightly. 

There, being held by Yuuri, Viktor was able to calm down more. He needed his comfort. He felt so safe, like Augustus and Seamus and all the others couldn’t harm him as long as Yuuri was there. He closed his eyes, which allowed some wayward tears to fall. Yuuri must have felt a drop of water land on him, because he looked up. 

His spectacles were still off, his eyes unaltered by a wall of glass. Beautiful eyes, so tender and kind. He unhooked an arm from around Viktor’s waist so that he could brush away the tears. 

“We’ll find him. I’ll do everything I can.” He looked so sincere, so earnest and determined, that Viktor started to believe him. But if he allowed himself any sliver of hope, then it was liable to be crushed like a beetle. But he couldn’t help it. 

Viktor wanted so desperately for Christophe to be alive and safe. Maybe, just maybe Yuuri would succeed and they could be reunited again. 

It was even more torturous now to know that Chris could be anywhere. At least before, he thought that Chris was in Augustus’ basement. Now...Viktor’s grief wanted to stifle him. His belly did a lurch and he suddenly felt quite ill. Why did he feel sick so easily? Why was he so delicate? 

He tried to mask his feelings, but his mind was too preoccupied to put up the carefully executed facade that he had presented so often in the past. 

“Viktor?” 

Viktor looked down at his feet. 

“May I carry you to your room?” 

Viktor’s lips parted in surprise. 

“Oh?” he replied. Yuuri’s face colored. 

“I mean, only if that’s alright with you, of course.” 

The words to tell Yuuri that it wasn’t proper for a master to carry their slave were on the tip of Viktor’s tongue, but then he searched his own soul and found that he wanted Yuuri to pick him up. He wanted to be cradled in Yuuri’s arms and comforted, even though that was selfish of him. 

“Yes,” he said simply, accompanied by a tired smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much to Emma for being a beta for me <3
> 
> Some comfort might be in order for our lads ;)


	13. Consolatione

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri and Viktor find comfort in the company of each other, as Yuuri reads a fantasy story and they drink tea together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Emma and Jean for reading over this for me <3

Yuuri placed an arm on Viktor's back and one behind his knees, then hoisted him up like a bride. Viktor instinctively wrapped his arms around Yuuri's neck. He was so much taller than him that he felt like a spindly sapling in Yuuri’s strong hold. 

Determined, Yuuri marched across the room. Viktor could feel his muscles tighten against his skin and shivered. Absentmindedly, he began to play with the soft strands of hair at Yuuri's nape. It was so strange and foreign to run his fingers through such comparatively short hair. The locks just- abruptly ended instead of flowing past the reach of one's outstretched arm. 

It was rather like the way that one could run towards a stream, hear the sounds of splashing and tumbling water as you approached, know that it was coming, and then still be taken by surprise at the last second and trip over the bluff and into the brook. Viktor knew that it was a rather silly metaphor, but that's what it felt like to him. 

The shortness of Yuuri's hair was utterly fascinating to him, and touching it offered some refuge from the horrible feeling threatening to engulf him. 

They reached Viktor’s room, and Yuuri carried him over to the couch. He lowered Viktor down so, so gently, as if he was the most precious thing in the world. The thought was probably inaccurate, but Viktor allowed himself to dream. Yuuri fetched one of Viktor’s pillows and a blanket, then nestled them over his long legs. 

“I’ll go and get some tea,” Yuuri said. He walked to the door, but gave a concerned glance back at Viktor before disappearing as he turned. Viktor folded up his knees and pulled the quilt over them, then leaned back and looked up at the sky. It was touched with golden streaks, like a painter had brushed on strokes of shimmering paint. The beautiful light bathed the room in gold, as if Midas himself had ran his fingers over every object. The color of sunflowers and jewelry and bells… 

Wherever Chris was, Viktor hoped that he could see the sky too. Staring up at that great expanse above him made him feel incredibly small. He was just a miniscule part of an eternal universe. 

Viktor heard Yuuri’s footsteps approaching, and his heart leapt. It really needed to stop doing that. It felt like he had flown back to reality from another plane of thought. It was like settling back into a bed that was still warm and cozy. He could fixate his thoughts on the infinite nature of everything and how microscopic he was in comparison, or he could return to the here and now, where Yuuri was bearing a tray on which were two filled teacups and saucers, as well as slices of fluffy sweet bread. 

Yuuri placed the platter onto the coffee table, then carefully seated himself at Viktor’s side and took his teacup and saucer. Viktor stretched out his hand towards the remaining cup. It was a lighter color from the ridiculous amount of added sugar and milk. 

“Thank you,” he told Yuuri quietly. Yuuri was so thoughtful and kind… He knew and remembered how Viktor preferred his tea, and was willing to stay with Viktor to make him feel better. 

“Of course,” Yuuri replied in a soft voice. His eyes were brimming with sadness and caring. Viktor knew that he still blamed himself for his misfortune, although Viktor thought that it was clear that he was at fault, not his benevolent… He thought “master” at first, but then mentally corrected himself. What was Yuuri to him? He couldn’t quite describe it. A friend? To Viktor, he was that, but so much more as well. 

The pair of them sipped tea in silence, watching the light fading from the heavens and withdrawing caused the shadows to begin to creep and swallow up the room. Yuuri abruptly stood and walked over to the bedstand, extracting a box of matches from one of the drawers. He moved to the gas lamp on the wall and lit it. 

There was a flicker, and the room was illuminated in a warm, gentle light. Yuuri returned, holding one of Viktor’s books that he had picked up on his journey back to the sofa. Viktor pouted playfully. 

“I missed you.” He had meant to be teasing, but there was truth behind it. It didn’t come from his lips with as light a tone as he would have liked. He was still shaken about the news pertaining to Chris. Yuuri sat down next to him, and Viktor was glad that he was close again.

“You keep saying that, but I’m never gone that long.” 

“I know.” Viktor smiled softly, although his heart felt laden with lead. Chris had always been flirtatious, mischievous. It felt wrong to be having a lighthearted banter with Yuuri when Chris was still somewhere out there. 

“We’ll find him,” Yuuri assured, seemingly reading Viktor’s face. He placed his hand on his shoulder. Viktor nodded slowly, and turned his attention to the book to try and distract himself. He tilted his head to one side. 

“I thought-” Yuuri began sheepishly. “I thought maybe I could read you a story.” Viktor’s heart welled up with gratitude and that emotion that he hadn’t dared to label yet. “Sorry, it was probably a silly idea.” Yuuri laughed nervously. “Would you like that?” 

“Yes,” Viktor whispered. “Very much.” 

Yuuri asked Viktor to pick a story, and so he selected one with an illustration of beautiful women dancing together. He had often admired the art, but never knew the context of the story it belonged to. The laughing, twirling maidens reminded him of what he’d imagined ballet to be like, with dancers gliding over the stage like snowflakes.

“The Shoes That Were Danced to Pieces,” Yuuri read, adjusting his spectacles (he must have grabbed them when he made the tea). Viktor stared at the book in wonder, eyes wide and soul enraptured by how the symbols on the page could transform into the words that flowed from Yuuri’s lips in a steady stream. The words formed sentences that integrated into a story in the way that a loom weaves threads into an exquisite tapestry. 

Yuuri told of twelve sisters that were princesses. Their father, the king, locked them up every night. Viktor felt sorry for the poor girls; he knew what it was like to be trapped behind a bolted door, trapped down in the dark… He shivered. Chris all alone stuck in some mildewing dungeon, black as night. No matter what he did, it seemed that his thoughts rotated back to his dear friend. He drew his attention back to the story instead. 

The princesses’ dancing shoes kept being worn out somehow by the morning, although they couldn’t leave their shared room. Viktor wondered how this could be possible. Perhaps they snuck out of the window, with sheets tied together? Yuuri continued, telling that the king decreed that anyone who could solve the mystery could marry one of his twelve daughters and reign as king. 

“But whoever should attempt to do it, and after three nights and days fail, must lose his life.” 

Viktor gasped, wrapped up in the story. Lose his life? He’d become aware that he’d moved closer to Yuuri, but did not back away. He watched Yuuri’s lips as he spoke, transfixed by them. Each word was a pearl of information tumbling down, full of luster. He clung to each one, holding his breath at times. 

Yuuri explained that many princes tried to solve the mystery regarding the princesses and their dancing shoes, but all failed and were beheaded. Viktor clutched his blanket when he heard this, curious eyes watching Yuuri’s own eyes glide over the page. 

A man entered the story; a soldier who had been crippled in a nameless war. He got advice from a kind old woman not to drink the wine that the princesses would offer him. She then gifted him a cloak, which would render him invisible when he donned it so that he could follow the princesses. 

Viktor listened carefully as Yuuri detailed how the man followed the instructions that the elderly lady had given him, and did not partake of the wine. The veteran then pretended to fall asleep. ‘The princesses have no clue that the man did not drink the sleeping potion,’ Viktor thought to himself, slightly amused. 

The princesses did not seem like very good people, dancing their shoes to tatters at the expense of the lives of the men trying to uncover their secret. Even if they were being kept under lock and key at night, it didn’t excuse their flippant attitudes towards all of those princes being killed. Suddenly the illustration of the dancing maidens seemed a lot more ominous. 

The man in the story discovered that the princesses had a hidden passageway that opened up when they knocked on one of the beds. Viktor wondered how the tunnel got there in the first place, and how the sisters figured out how it was there at all. 

Viktor imagined if his own bed had a secret passage that opened up when he rapped his knuckles on it. Where would it even lead to? A beautiful place where he could dance freely, like Yuuri was telling of? He already had that right where he was at. Besides, he didn’t want to sneak out and meet strange princes. The only person he wanted to dance with was… 

Viktor blinked up at Yuuri, from where he was leaning his head on his strong shoulder, with a feeling of contentedness blossoming in his chest. His drowsiness-addled brain was probably imagining things, but- Yuuri looked soft and glowing in the flickering amber light. Viktor felt more tranquil and calm than he had earlier. The tea, the warmth, and Yuuri’s proximity and voice had quelled some of his anxiety for now. He knew that Yuuri would help him find Christophe. He was so caring and gentle. 

Viktor yawned, tiredness washing over him. It had been a long day. He realized, absentmindedly, that he’d never braided his hair. It would be a tangled mess in the morning, no doubt. But maybe Yuuri would tend to his hair again. He’d enjoyed that immensely. Viktor rested his head on Yuuri’s lap, too tired to argue with his instincts. He barely registered how Yuuri’s voice caught for a second when he did this, and didn’t think much on it. 

Viktor rubbed his eyes and yawned again as Yuuri continued the story. The soldier was presenting before the king the evidence he’d gathered as to where the princesses were going every night. He bore three branches made of precious metal and gems that he’d collected from the other land, as well as a goblet he’d taken. The king believed his story, and the man chose to wed the oldest princess, even though they’d never really even met before. 

Viktor found it fascinating, in his groggy state of mind, that both human and fairy stories usually concluded with the union of the protagonist to an attractive spouse. 

“The End,” Yuuri finished, and closed the book carefully before setting it aside. He appeared that he was thinking, and was chewing on his lip. “Viktor…”

“Yes?” Viktor mumbled through his sleepiness. 

“How would you feel about me teaching you how to read?” Yuuri asked. Happy tears immediately sprung up and threatened to escape Viktor’s eyes. 

“I would love that,” he whispered softly. His eyelids kept dropping, heavy and unobedient. The last thing that he saw before he drifted off into sleep was Yuuri’s lovely visage and tender smile. 

~~~~~~~~~~~

Without the distraction of reading, Yuuri’s full attention was drawn to the fact that Viktor was sleeping with his head over his thighs. Yuuri blushed, heart aflutter. Viktor looked so peaceful in his sleep, which brought great relief to Yuuri. He’d been so worried about the fairy, finding out that his friend was who-knows-where like that. He was glad that his efforts at comfort had helped, even just a little. 

Yuuri watched Viktor’s chest rise and fall as he breathed deep and steady. His slender hands were curled on Yuuri’s lap. Locks of argent hair dripped off the side of the couch and blanketed Viktor’s body. His folded aquamarine wings were gilded in the golden lamplight, shimmering softly. A surge of protectiveness rose in Yuuri’s chest as he watched over his fairy. Viktor deserved the world and the heaven, the moon and stars winking down and encircling him in their shimmering arms. 

Yuuri softly ran a hand over Viktor’s head, thinking back on all of the events that had transpired that day. It seemed like ages ago that he’d brushed Viktor’s hair. And now… He glanced down at Viktor’s stump of a finger, still healing over. Now he knew the truth. He still felt guilt and believed that it was his fault. His eyes were still sore from sobbing, and he had a pressing headache.

“I’m sorry,” he said, almost inaudible. Tears blurred his vision. He felt so terrible for inadvertently causing Viktor to be hurt, but also felt bad for the fact that he still felt so at fault in the first place. He knew that Viktor wouldn’t want him to blame himself. Ever so tenderly, Yuuri lifted Viktor’s head and then maneuvered out from under him. Carefully, he took Viktor up into his arms. His limbs were dangling and his wings were limp. 

Yuuri made sure that he was secure in his arms, then slowly crossed the room to the bed. He laid Viktor down on his front and then tucked him in. Viktor moved to snuggle in the blankets and get settled, and Yuuri jumped a bit. 

Heart beating quickly, Yuuri looked at Viktor’s lips. They appeared pink and soft as peonies. He pushed away the whim of what he’d like to do to them that popped into his head. 

Yuuri swiftly went and turned off the stream of gas burning in the lamp. He picked up the tray, and shot one last lingering look at Viktor before he left the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry it took so long... I'm really depressed, and it's hard to even do homework and such. I have to live with my emotionally harmful parents for two more years because I don't have enough money to go to the college I got accepted to, and that time stretching before me is pretty daunting. Writing does help me feel better, but I end up questioning my own abilities to do anything competently. And no, I'm not giving up. I'm going to keep trying. But just an update.


	14. Quod Periit, Periit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Viktor sees something that he wasn't supposed to see. Him and Yuuri take a trip to the bookstore together, and some truths are revealed.

Viktor had finished getting dressed before Yuuri for once, likely due to the fact that he’d rushed through his usual routine out of excitement. He was anxious to leave. The blisters from the corset were mere scars; the amputation site on his finger was nearly healed completely and all signs of infection were gone. 

A check-in from Yakov the day before had confirmed this. He hadn’t said it out loud, but the glint in his eyes indicated that he was happy that about Viktor’s improving health. Yakov’s grumpy fairy assistant had even thrust a paper bag in Viktor’s direction with a frown and glare on his face, and eyes averted. 

“Take it,” he’d demanded bluntly. When Viktor opened the bag later, he’d been delighted to find it filled with sugared violets and rose petals. Eating them brought back a calming yet melancholy feeling of nostalgia. The specific memories had faded long ago, but Viktor knew instantly once he’d tasted it again that he’d eaten flower candy as a child, a long long time ago. 

Viktor plucked a couple out of the bag and munched on them as he left his bedroom. He stepped over to Yuuri’s door and had his hand poised to knock when he realized that the door was open a crack already. He didn’t see Yuuri and pushed the door gently, mouth open to call out his name. 

But suddenly, Yuuri exited the bathroom and Viktor instinctively pulled the knob so that he could only see a sliver into the room. Through his tiny slit, he watched with wide eyes. Yuuri didn’t have a shirt on. Viktor’s heart thudded in his chest, giddiness rushing in his arteries. It was transfixing the way that he could see Yuuri’s muscles contracting below his skin as he moved. 

Yuuri was well-muscled, but not overly so. Clinging to his body was a layer of pudge, softening his appearance. What would his bare skin feel like under his touch, if he spread his hands out over it? He realized what he was thinking and blushed. 

Viktor finally registered the markings on Yuuri’s arms and back as Yuuri turned and faced away from him. He squinted, and then gasped softly. Tattoos. Depicted on the canvas of his skin was a beautiful fish leaping, surrounded by dazzling water droplets. Its scales were a lovely gradient from blue to indigo to purple. White roses bloomed with a smooth elegance over his skin, and inked wisteria dripped from his scapulas. Glimmering golden sunflowers proudly lifted up their heads towards the sky, and sea snails perched on fiery pieces of coral. 

All of the images blended seamlessly to create an ocean scene by a garden. It was utterly captivating and stunning. Viktor had never seen them before; not once. He’d seen Yuuri with his shirt unbuttoned at the brothel on that fateful night, but none of the tattoos would have been clearly visible as none of them were down the centerline of his torso. Even if bits had peeked out, he’d been to frightened at the time to notice them under the dim, grimy lights. 

Viktor was overcome with guilt, feeling like he’d violated Yuuri. He clearly had not wanted Viktor to know about his tattoos, or he wouldn’t have hidden them. It wasn’t very common for humans to have them. He stepped back and leaned against the wall, fidgeting his wings. He tried to forget what he’d seen, but the image of Yuuri’s lovely body refused to leave his mind. He desired to trace his fingers over those gorgeous designs for hours, to press a kiss to every wisteria blossom… He shook his head. He shouldn’t be having these thoughts. 

Viktor tugged on his hair absentmindedly as he waited, heart still beating quickly. If he went to knock on the door, it would surely slip open and an embarrassing situation could follow. He wasn’t sure if Yuuri was fully clothed yet or not. He ran his hands through his ponytail, not reaching the ends even when his hand was straight down. 

Secretly, he wanted Yuuri to brush his hair for him. Play with it. Braid it. Yuuri wasn’t as skilled at it as Viktor himself was, but he basked in Yuuri’s tender care and praises. It made him feel like a prince. He adored Yuuri’s determined face as he worked on elaborate styles, which he caught sight of whenever he snuck glances back over his shoulder. 

It had taken a while to overcome his irrational fear that Yuuri would pull out a pair of shears and start hacking his long tresses off. He knew that Yuuri would never ever do that, but phobias rarely listen to logic and old habits die hard. He still stiffened at that first brushstroke before easing into relaxation. He always thought that he could melt right there under Yuuri’s hands. 

Viktor hummed a section from “Swan Lake,” swinging his leg forward and pointing his toes before gracefully pulling it back. He imagined himself as a ballet dancer clothed in an array of white feathers that glimmered in the theater lights. 

When he heard Yuuri’s footsteps, he stopped and turned towards the sound. Yuuri still turned the handle, clearly not realizing that the door was already slightly ajar. When it opened without any resistance, he looked at the knob briefly with mild confusion. 

Yuuri was wearing gray and navy-blue plaid, straight-legged trousers that clung nicely to his legs, with a matching vest and a long-sleeved white dress shirt. Viktor wanted to ask him about the tattoos, but saying something about them would be admitting that he’d been peeping. 

“Are you ready to go?” Yuuri asked, pulling on dark gray gloves.

“Yes!” Viktor exclaimed. He was excited, but anxiety had weaselled its way in there too.

They walked together to the front hall, where Viktor pulled up his hood over his hair and then smiled down at Yuuri. The long cloak insulated him from the frigid air as well as concealed his wings. He wouldn’t be able to fly because it was so cold anyway, and the weight brought a certain feeling of safety. Yuuri put on his coat and took a deep breath. The two of them left the house. 

Yuuri locked the door and then helped Viktor down the icy steps. Yuuri noted aloud without much thought that because Viktor was so much taller he’d have a lot farther to fall to the ground if he slipped. When he had realized what he’d said, his face flushed scarlet and he quickly apologized. Viktor found it amusing, and smiled to himself as he tapped down from the bottom step. 

The snow that had fallen a day prior had turned to muddy slush, which subsequently froze over again. Yuuri held out his elbow, and Viktor tentatively took it with his pulse rushing. They walked down to the curb, and Yuuri hailed a cab. He helped Viktor up into it before telling the driver their destination. 

The ceiling of the taxi carriage wasn’t as low as some that Viktor had ridden in before, and for that he was grateful. They had taken cabs more than usual in the past week as they asked around about Christophe and put up fliers with his appearance described on them. Not a single person had offered clues as to where he might be. 

They had visited an auction site, where Yuuri had gotten quite shaky and furious. Viktor’s anger and disgust was more inwardly contained, although he did deliver some cold stares accompanied by tight-lipped smiles. Their venture produced no fruit. None of the auctioneers or managers had sold a fairy named Christophe in the past few months, or could recall one with his physical description. Yuuri had even made sure that no fairies had passed through their hands that looked like Chris if his long brown hair had been cut or his wings had been… 

Viktor shivered. He moved closer to Yuuri’s warm and comforting body, and Yuuri gently pressed up against him. VIktor appreciated the reciprocation, and the gesture put a soothing flame in his core. Although he was trying to stay positive, he was still plagued with worry over his dear friend. 

Viktor turned out the window as the streets passed by. The sky was overcast, but no snowflakes were twirling down from the heavens. Viktor expected that by the next morning there would be a new layer of snow covering everything like powdered sugar. He wondered if it would alter their plans. 

Soon, the pair of them were going to visit the brothel that Viktor had briefly lived at. His situation was now drastically different, but he knew that it was going to be difficult. The prospect filled him with a dull, throbbing dread and made his heart beat faster. At least Yuuri would be with him for support. Today’s trip would be easier. (At least, Viktor hoped.) 

The taxi came to a gradual halt, and Yuuri assisted Viktor down the steps. 

“Careful, there’s a slippery patch.” 

“Thank you, Yuuri.” Viktor gave a heartfelt smile. He would probably be okay without being helped from the carriage, but he found it so sweet that Yuuri cared enough about him to do it. Besides, Viktor got to hold his hand in the process. Because they were both wearing gloves, it was merely fabric on fabric contact. But to Viktor, he felt the same spark that he did when their skin touched. He wistfully wished that Yuuri felt the same way. 

Yuuri paid the cab driver, who gave a curt nod before urging his horses along. The two of them stood before a bookstore that was sandwiched between a dress shop and what appeared to be a bakery. It had huge glass windows in the front that showcased what Viktor assumed were new releases. When they entered the store, a bell jingled overhead. 

Viktor’s eyes widened in wonder. The shop, although it was narrow, had two stories joined by a spiral staircase. The second level had half the floor space as the ground floor, like a loft. The bookcases stretched nearly ceiling to floor, with tall ladders on tracks attached that had wheels fastened to the feet. 

He had never set foot into a library before, and certainly not a bookstore. He knew that his old master had had a personal book collection, but of course he had never seen it before, being mostly confined to the basement. 

Everything smelled like new books, a novel scent to Viktor. The aroma of crisp pages and leather bindings permeated the air. Taking in everything was almost overwhelming. Viktor had never even imagined that so many books had been written. There were millions of words contained in just this one store. 

“I’ll show you where the books are that we need.” 

Viktor swallowed and followed Yuuri. As they passed by the round check-out counter, Yuuri stared firmly at his feet and hunched his shoulders. He pulled down the brim of his pageboy cap and sped up. With curiousity, VIktor pondered why he didn’t seem to want the cashier to see his face. Yuuri was fidgety and overly anxious-looking, reminding Viktor of his behavior before they had gotten to know each other better. 

Yuuri appeared to know where to go, which came as a relief to Viktor. The signs loomed above him with their menacing, undecipherable letters. Yuuri walked down a row of the store. He squinted and leaned forward to scan over the spines of the books before pulling out several thin volumes. He carefully handed them to Viktor, making sure that he had them in his hands before letting go, then turned back to the shelf to hunt for more books. 

Viktor held the stack of small books and flipped through to look at the covers inquisitively. They seemed to be intended for human school children, which was appropriate for his literacy level. They felt so nice and new in his grasp. He felt too dirty to touch them. 

He waited while Yuuri pored over the books and popped behind the corner onto the next row. Viktor wanted to help, but he thought he’d be more of a hindrance. He hummed an old fairy tune. He remembered many fairy songs, probably from repeating them so often… He couldn’t be sure if his memories of the melodies had changed over time or not. 

This shifted his thoughts back to Christophe, as often occured, and suddenly the books felt as heavy as lead in his hands. 

He heard a shuffling noise behind him, and turned to look over his shoulder. He saw a boy peeking from around the corner. His eyes widened, and he let out an “eep” noise before disappearing from view. ‘So strange.’

Yuuri came into sight again. 

“Here are some more,” Yuuri said with pink cheeks. “May I see those?” 

Viktor gave the books in his arms to Yuuri, who laid them out on a nearby, small table. 

“What do you think about this one?” he asked, pointing to a book that had a drawing of a little girl holding a cat on the front. Viktor’s lip quirked slightly in amusement. All he knew about the books was gathered from the covers; he didn’t know which ones would be most helpful. 

Yuuri quickly added, “I used a similar one when I was little and first learning to read. There’s stages as you progress.” 

Viktor nodded with a smile. “Yes, then. Sounds excellent.” 

“And then we can get this workbook too.” It had boxes and lines inside as Yuuri flipped through it, presumably for writing letters and words in. A bubble of excitement rose inside of Viktor. This was real. He was actually going to learn how to read and write. 

“This should be good for now,” Yuuri said, seeming to be thinking out loud. Viktor nodded again, and Yuuri moved to put the books they hadn’t chosen away. 

“Would you like some recipe books, Viktor? Since I’ll be teaching you to cook and all…” He smiled, a tad sheepishly. He picked up the books they had selected. 

Viktor shook his head. He didn’t want Yuuri to spend any more money than he already was on him. 

“You have the recipes in here, right?” Viktor asked, pointing at his own head and tilting it to the side. 

“I suppose I do.” Yuuri flushed slightly. They walked together in the direction of the cash register, but there was a seed of guilt in Viktor’s stomach that Yuuri was carrying his bags for him. Even though he was steadily improving, it was still hard to ask for things. He swallowed. 

“May I carry them?” he ventured. Yuuri blinked. 

“Oh, yes, of course!” he stammered, and gave the books to Viktor. Viktor took care not to drop them. 

“Thank you,” he replied softly. Viktor stared down at the swirling pattern on the red carpet as they walked. It was almost mesmerizing as he crossed over it. They were approaching the counter, and Viktor shifted his eyes down to Yuuri beside him. 

Yuuri had once again pulled the brim of his hat further over his face so that it was more obscured. Yet again, Viktor wondered who or what Yuuri was hiding from. It was kind of funny to watch him, with his nervous shifty glances and hunched shoulders. He was as fidgety as a squirrel. 

They reached the short queue of people waiting to make purchases. Viktor tilted his head as he looked at magazines on a nearby rack. Most featured story installments, from what Viktor could discern. To think the soon he’d be able to read! It was nearly an unfathomable concept. Just half a year ago, the idea never would have even crossed his mind. Now, it was becoming a reality. All thanks to Yuuri. 

They reached the cashier, who smiled friendily. 

“Hello!” he greeted. He had dark, slanted eyes and dimples when he smiled. HIs slicked-back hair was neatly parted. His paleness made his rosy cheeks stand out. He was attractive, but not in the same way that Yuuri was. He didn’t come close to Yuuri’s beauty in Viktor’s opinion, but he figured absentmindedly that he was biased. 

Viktor placed the stack of books onto the counter. 

“How has your day been?” the cashier asked as his fingers clacked on the register keys.

“O-Oh, it’s been fine,” Yuuri mumbled, keeping his eyes down. Was he intentionally making his voice sound different? It was so odd. Sure, Yuuri became anxious in certain situations, but never in this way. Maybe this was one of his ex-lovers or something of the sort? A childhood bully being re-encountered? 

As the cashier reached out to take the last book and enter its price into the cash register, he suddenly blinked. He leaned in closer to Yuuri, who stepped back. Viktor saw panic flash over his face. 

“Katsuki-san?” the cashier questioned. 

“Um…” 

 

The man beamed. “It is you!” 

Yuuri looked like he wanted to run. Tentatively, Viktor moved closer so that their shoulders were brushing. With any luck it would offer a modicum of comfort. 

“We haven’t seen you in so long! How have you been?” 

Yuuri gulped. 

“Well… Slowly doing better, I think,” he replied with a nervous laugh. He was clearly uncomfortable. 

“Good, good.” The man studied him with his near-black eyes. “Well, what are you doing paying for these books? You can just take them.” 

“No, no,” Yuuri quickly interjected. “That wouldn’t be right. I mean, I don’t mind paying. I want to.” 

“It really isn’t necessary.” 

“I want to,” Yuuri insisted. The boy that Viktor had seen spying on him earlier scampered up. 

“Our new shipment of…” he trailed off when he saw Yuuri. “Katsuki-san?” he squeaked. Yuuri sighed, defeated. 

 

“Yes.” 

“Ah! It’s so amazing to see you in the flesh! I just recently started working here,” he babbled excitedly. His black hair stuck up every which way, and Viktor noticed that his canines were pointier than most human’s. His skin was tanned and he appeared to also be Asian. “My name is Kenjirou Minami. But please, call me Minami-kun!” 

“Oh, um…” Yuuri stuttered, frazzled. “I am Katsuki Yuuri.” He stiffly bowed in greetings, and Minami did the same. His deep bow nearly caused him to bang his head on the corner of the counter. He didn’t appear to notice. Yuuri turned to Viktor. His eyes read “help me.” 

“And this is…” 

“I’m Viktor.” Viktor gave the best fake smile he could muster. Minami gave a small nod before reverting his attention fully back to Yuuri. Viktor wondered if his behavior was due to him being a fairy (probably not, because he still had his hood on and it covered his ears) or because he only cared about Yuuri. It was the second one, Viktor decided. 

“Ah, Katsuki-san, it’s just so great to meet you in person! I’ve heard so much about you! Your picture is in the backroom,” he gushed. 

Yuuri gave an awkward half-smile, clearly unsure how to react. He quickly dug out his wallet and shoved bills onto the counter. Viktor noticed that his hands were shaking. The cashier counted out the change and handed it to Yuuri. 

“I hope that everything was up to your standards.” 

Yuuri appeared anxious to leave, eyes yearning for the door. 

“Yes, yes. Of course.” 

The cashier wrapped the books in brown paper with swift, precise, and practiced motions before tying a string around the package. Viktor took it into his arms, and Yuuri bowed rapidly in farewell. 

“Goodbye, Katsuki-san!” Minami called. 

“Thank you for visiting!” the dark-eyed man echoed. 

“Goodbye,” Yuuri said, giving a limp wave.

Looking at the ground, Yuuri left the shop in quick strides. Viktor followed behind, finger on his lips as he watched Yuuri. Once they were half a block away, Yuuri slowed his pace (it hadn’t been difficult for Viktor to keep up, since his legs were so long). Yuuri gave a long, heavy sigh of relief, and his shoulders sagged. Silence weighed on the two of them. 

“Yuuri,” Viktor said, a bit flatly. He drew out the “uu.” He wanted to know what had just happened. 

“I’m sorry,” Yuuri began softly. 

~~~~~~~~~~~

“I owe you an explanation,” he continued. Viktor was observing him with those ever-intelligent aquamarine eyes. Yuuri sighed and lowered his gaze. Where to begin? “My family owns many bookstores. We used to only have one, but about twenty-five years ago business started booming.” He paused and chewed on his lip for a moment.

“More people were becoming literate and earning higher wages, and suddenly the number of people wanting to buy books grew tremendously.” Yuuri glanced at Viktor, who was paying close attention. He sighed and swallowed audibly. His throat felt dry, and his heartrate was still a little elevated from the experience he’d had. 

Viktor suddenly tugged lightly on his sleeve. He sat down gracefully on a bench that was under an overhang (and therefore had no snow on it) and patted the seat next to him with a smile. Yuuri obliged, sinking down onto the cold wooden bench. As he kept speaking, he traced a finger over the intricate metal designs on the armrests. 

“My grandfather was able to open up more stores to expand the business, and suddenly my family found themselves quite wealthy. My parents never really got used to it, so they still live in pretty much the same way they did before. They’re modest people.” He looked up at the bright, overcast sky. 

“My aunt and uncle bought the town house, and they used to host parties all the time…” Yuuri had been young then, but he could still recall laughing, chattering, vibrant skirts, the clinking of silverware, and people towering over him with flushed faces. “But… it all became too much for them, from what I’ve gathered. They missed the way that things used to be. So they left a lot of their possessions and moved out.” 

Viktor nodded, and Yuuri carried on with his story. “They never sold the house. Years later, I…” He sighed yet again and pushed up his glasses. Even after the time that had passed, this was still a sore subject. “I moved here alone to run one of the bookstores, encouraged to do so by my father.” Yuuri noticed that he was bouncing his leg, and promptly stopped. 

“But I wasn’t prepared for running a business, and I certainly don’t possess a knack for it.” Viktor shifted closer so that their arms were touching each other. Yuuri looked up to see him offering a comforting smile. “I was a fool to ever think that I could do it. The stress was terrible, and I nearly put that store out of business.” 

Yuuri’s head sagged. He stared at his hands, which were resting limply on his knees. It was difficult to speak about, but it felt good to just talk to somebody about it. Especially with Viktor. Yuuri had kept all of this bottled up for well over a year, letting his sense of failure and self-hatred build up inside of him. It now flowed out like a river that had been dammed up. 

Viktor placed a hand onto Yuuri’s shoulder ever so caringly. It brought warmth to Yuuri’s heart, and tears welled up in his eyes. 

“I… resigned and withdrew into that house. I haven’t found the courage to go and face my parents again after what I did.” 

Yuuri didn’t have to work for the rest of his life from what the company generously sent him every month, but he still wanted to work. He just… hadn’t been motivated to. He’d fallen into such a deep depression that it had taken all of his strength just to keep up with basic care to survive, and he hadn’t even done that well. It was hard to get up and function when you didn’t even want to be alive. He felt so terribly guilty, inadequate, and lazy all the same, which only strengthened his downward spiral. 

“I’m a coward, Viktor.” Yuuri buried his face in his hands. “I should have- I should have gone and confronted my mother and father or found a new job. One that I was at least alright at doing.” 

He felt Viktor shift his hand to his back tenderly. They stayed there for a while, just listening to the bustle of the city as people went about their business. 

“I’m so sorry that I didn’t tell you sooner,” Yuuri said quietly. “I’m just so ashamed of my incompetence and what I did that it’s difficult to talk about.” 

“I don’t think of you any less,” Viktor said. “You’re still Yuuri.” Yuuri lifted his line of sight and met Viktor’s shimmering blue-green eyes and amiable smile. So beautiful and sweet. “You are kind and selfless. Without you, I’d be… You know.” 

“Thank you,” Yuuri replied softly. 

Viktor leaned in close all of a sudden, eyes bright. His breath was warm against Yuuri’s cheek. Yuuri’s heart tripped over itself. Viktor’s face was so close, those perfect pink lips inches away. If he just dipped his head forward a little bit… Viktor delicately adjusted Yuuri’s spectacles with a slender hand. 

“They were crooked,” he explained, moving back to how he was before. 

“Oh, right.” Yuuri blushed and everted his eyes. What on earth had he been thinking just then? Yuuri stood, and Viktor did the same. He picked up the package containing the books that he had set beside him. 

“Let’s go home,” Yuuri said. 

“Yes.” Viktor smiled wide. They moved in the direction of the street corner to hail a cab. 

Suddenly, Yuuri felt Viktor tense up beside him. He looked up to see him frozen in place, eyes wide. 

“Viktor?” he asked, concerned. Viktor’s face melted into masked sadness. “Are you alright?” 

“Yes.” He appeared visibly shaken. “I thought that I saw…” He was trembling. 

“Who?” Yuuri prodded gently. He had a feeling in his belly already who it was, however. 

“It was merely a fairy with green wings and brown hair. It wasn’t him.” Viktor’s eyes were dull, and he was clearly crestfallen. He gave a tight-lipped smile. Yuuri offered him his arm, and Viktor accepted, transferring his books to one arm and clutching them securely to his chest. 

“I’m so sorry.” Yuuri’s heart felt weighed down by lead. His poor Viktor. Here he was complaining even though he never had to worry about or endure the same things that his fairy did. All the carriage ride home, Viktor never let go of Yuuri, clinging to him as if he’d vanish if he let go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh, I'm sorry. I know this is a mess and poorly paced, please don't remind me. :c I know it's not a good excuse for poor writing, but I'm still just in an awful mindset still and trapped in a pattern of self-loathing. I hope you guys liked this a little bit. For the next chapter I'm planning for them to go back to the brothel, and then after that a quiet trip to a lake. :) We're reaching the climax of the story, and I hope when I eventually get there it won't be a letdown...
> 
> Thanks to Emma for helping me <3 Also thank you to Alex. c:


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